


The Prince

by IAgree



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, child!Jareth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAgree/pseuds/IAgree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah's defeat of the Goblin King was unprecedented and unprepared for, so much so that it very literally throws the magic of the underground into chaos. Thirteen years later, a small boy with familiarly unusual eyes comes to pull her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thirteen

**Author's Note:**

> I in no way shape or form own Labyrinth or its characters. I am a mere storywriter who enjoys twisting up the lives of fictional characters to suit her vicarious romantic and squee-moment needs.

The number 13 was stalking her.

Thirteen seconds after she’d gotten home from her adventure in the Underground she’d stubbed her toe running up the stairs to check on Toby. Thirteen minutes after returning home she’d seen a large white barn owl just outside her window. Thirteen hours and the family had received a call from her mother’s agent who reported the actresses fatal accident. Thirteen days brought about a broken leg, thirteen weeks saw the end of her Otherworldly friend’s visits, and thirteen _months_ produced a house fire which almost took her father from her.

It wasn’t just with _time_ that the number popped up either. At the coffee house her latte, muffin and bottle of water turned up to be $13.13, _despite_ the fact that her friends exact same order rang up differently. She, without fail, would trip on any thirteenth step, any doorknob marked by the number would give her a little shock, and any thirteenth page of a book, magazine, or newspaper would give her a paper cut. Suffice to say Sarah Ann Williams _hated_ the number thirteen.

The young woman glared at the clock on her bookshelf, knowing it was taunting her. The damn thing stopped thirteen seconds before thirteen minutes to midnight. It was faulty, yes, always stopping at random moments but she _knew_ it was taunting her this time, mocking her with the number which had been tormenting her for so long now. She even knew _why_ , which made the whole situation even more detestable. Tomorrow would mark the thirteenth year.

With a frustrated curse, Sarah turned on her heel and all but stomped to her kitchen. A quick glance to the digital clock on her microwave told her that it was indeed thirteen minutes to midnight. She wrenched open her pantry and grabbed the box of hot chocolate within it hoping the hot drink would help her get to sleep like it had since she was a young child. She hadn’t been able to really sleep for a week now, not since she realized how truly close The Year was.

It had bothered her since the Month so long ago when the family had stood outside of their home watching the flames burn away their entire lives. If this is what happened at thirteen _month_ what was going to happen when as many _years_ went by? What would the horrible number bring then? She would find out, of course. She’d call in sick just for the occasion and more than likely she would spend the day in her little apartment like a shut in. Doors would be locked, shades drawn and she would be tucked under a blanket in her living room, eyes locked on a ticking clock.

With a hand more patient than she was feeling, Sarah lit her rather defective stove with a match and placed her kettle over the flame. She glanced over to the microwave. Twelve minutes now.

She felt cursed. At twenty-eight years old she’d had yet to have anything go right in her life. What was worse, was that she was _bored_. Her adventure in the Underground, in _his_ Labyrinth, may have matured her greatly, but it also left her with some expectations. A simple life of going to a nine-to-five job, dating a simple, regular man, going on simple and boring lunch dates with vapid and shallow girlfriends just didn’t seem to cut it. She didn’t want to _talk_ about that awesome new movie with the woman who gets pulled into an unimaginable adventure or that one ‘epic’ book about the main character being pulled to fantastical places. She wanted to _experience_ them.

She was _waiting_ , waiting and wanting her life to be remarkable, to be filled with adventure. And she hated that.

Really it was all her fault. If she hadn’t been so foolish as to wish Toby away all those years ago then she wouldn’t be going through this. Her mother wouldn’t have died in that horrible crash, all those relationships with those ‘nice boys’ wouldn’t have fallen through, her parents house wouldn’t have been gone. If she hadn’t acted like a spoiled child so many years ago she would have been a _normal_ woman now, not one people saw as a paranoid, eventual cat lady. She didn’t even like cats.

Another peek to the digital clock. Eleven minutes.

She nibbled lightly on her fingertips, eyes returning to stare sightlessly at her homely little kettle. In all honestly, while she was – rightly – afraid of the coming day, she was also extremely grateful to eventually leave it behind herself. After tomorrow there would be no other 13th that she could reach. Not really. She wouldn’t be _alive_ for the thirteenth decade, nor century, nor millennia, so unless she didn’t live through tomorrow she would be, in essence, free. All she had to do was make sure she was safe and sound in her recliner, maybe with a nice book, all the doors and windows locked, all the mechanical appliances unplugged, dangerous cutlery in their proper places. What could possibly go wrong then?

Her entire body tensed at that line of thinking, and Sarah rolled her eyes. _What could go wrong? How about_ everything! With a heavy sigh she reached over and tugged the microwaves cord from the wall just as it turned from eleven minutes away from midnight to ten. Instantly the little screen went dark and with shaking hands she turned off the stove, thinking better of having a fire lit so close to The Thirteenth Year. Instead she whirled on her feet and went back to the living room. She grabbed up the blanket on the couch before settling herself in her chair, covered from toe to chin with said blanket.

Her eyes flicked to the window, locked tight with the curtain drawn, before roving around the room as if she would be able to see whatever was going to cause her mischief. There was, of course, nothing there. Not a single thing out of place, nothing that _shouldn’t_ be there already. It was going to be fine. She would get through this day, nothing was going to happen.

She sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to one of the many clocks she had around the apartment. It ticked loudly with each second, nearly lulling her to sleep as she counted the seconds. She counted a good four hundred and eighty two ticks before she decided that, yes, it was safe to sleep. Whatever was going to happen would probably wait ‘til later, yeah?

Yet, just as her eyes were about to flutter close, as she was about to fall asleep, her gaze was pulled to something that didn’t seem quite right.

Sarah frowned, blinking a few times as she squinted through the darkness of the room at the stopped clock on her bookcase. Or at least, the bit of out of place red beside it. She didn’t have any red books. She really didn’t have red _anything_.

She slowly rose to her feet, eyes locked on the suddenly appearing object. Her heart pounded in her chest as she paced forward, breathing shallow and shaking. Mere feet away from the bookshelf and she had to stop, lungs frozen.

It was a book, but not just any book. It was _the_ book. Its red cover was charred lightly but the gold lettering still blazed brightly in the dark. This was impossible. _Everything_ had been lost in the fire; all of her things had been reduced to ash, her clothes, her _books_. And yet there it was.

_Labyrinth_.

Distantly she heard a few of her clocks begin to chime, listening as they called of the time. _One_. _Two. Three._

With a shaking hand she reached out and picked up the book, running trembling fingers over the binding. _Four. Five. Six._

A sudden, soft gust of air had her whirling to face the window. With a horrified gasp she realized the pane was open, allowing a cool breeze into the room. _Seven. Eight. Nine._

The book dropped from her numb fingers as she rushed to the window. She slammed it shut, turning the lock firmly before slowly backing away. _Ten. Eleven. Twelve._

_Thirteen._

A quiet sound of shifting right behind her had Sarah squealing in fear, spinning around again to see what had gotten into her house. To her utter surprise a small child stood just feet away, platinum blonde hair a stark contrast with the darkness of the room. No more than five years of age and dressed in clothes befitting a prince of fairytales, the little boy was utterly out of place in her small, plain apartment. Rather disturbingly though, he held her book in his hand, silently studying it.

Before she could speak up, ask him how he’d gotten in he looked up to her, she was pinned by a pair of pale blue eyes. His left pupil was completely dilated.

A mischievous smile appeared on his small face. “Play with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,504 Date Written: 16th – 18th December 2011
> 
> Reposted from Fanfiction.net. First and foremost, this fic is the first Laby story I've ever attempted, and while I'm a bit nervous about it I thought it was good enough to actually post it. I hope you enjoy. Secondly I have some recognition to give. I had been reading the lovely comic 'Roommates' by Ashe-Ryder on deviantArt *gives props* and saw a certain section with an adorable Mini-Jareth, I was INSTANTLY barraged by a plunny.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	2. The Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I in no way shape or form own Labyrinth or its characters. I am a mere storywriter who enjoys twisting up the lives of fictional characters to suit her vicarious romantic and squee-moment needs.

Somehow it was obvious that it was _him_. Within seconds she only had a sliver of a doubt of who she was seeing. He had the same shade of almost white hair, same strange and mismatched eyes, same ‘Otherworldly’ manner radiating from him. Even with this cherubic face, free of sharp angles and dramatic colors, she wouldn’t have been able to mistake him for anyone else. This suddenly appearing little boy almost had to be him, there was no one else he could be.

Yet the thought of that certain someone as a child in her _apartment_ was almost as ludicrous as Karen offering to mud-wrestle a polar bear. The Goblin King, _Jareth_ , in her living room, pint-sized, and looking at her with a mix of childish curiosity and expectance was at the least laughable and at the most certifiable. Jareth wasn’t a child. He’d been a full-grown male, there hadn’t been an innocent or childish thing about him.

She was pretty sure he _was_ here but the question was _why_? Why come to her like _this_ after so long?

Sarah didn’t know what to say as she stared down at him, completely and utterly shocked at this unprecedented appearance. Instead the two in the room only stared at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Sarah was extremely reluctant to do so, not wanting to give the fae lord any leverage over her. This had to be a trick after all. He was trying to be adorable (succeeding) and disarming (almost there) to one up her. Well she was going to have any of it. _He_ could make the first move.

And he did.

“What’s your name?”

The question jolted her, his high-pitched voice startling her physically. “What… what’s my _name_?”

His eyes widened minutely, “You don’t know what your name is?”

A frown spread across her lips and Sarah crossed her arms in the classic pose of an annoyed woman. Oh no, there was _no_ way she was going to fall for this one. “Alright, Jareth, I don’t know what you’re playing at but I’m going to stop you right here and right now. It’s already going to be a bad enough day without you coming here and trying to rope me into whatever game you had in mind.”

He graced her with a disbelieving look, “You don’t know your _own_ name but you know _mine_? Weird.”

“What is wrong with you Jareth?” she demanded irately, “This isn’t funny.”

“Are you a princess?”

The innocent, honest question had her startled once again. Sarah blinked at the little boy, confused. That was _not_ a question Jareth would ask her. In fact _no_ grown man would ask a woman if they were a princess, they would _call_ them a princess or a queen, ingratiate themselves with such pretty words. But it wasn’t. This was a naive question of a curious little boy. What was going on? “No,” she said hesitantly, “No I’m not a princess. I’m a regular person.”

He scrutinized her a bit, an adorably skeptical look on his face, “But you _look_ like a princess.”

Sarah was, of course, flattered despite the source of said compliment. What woman _didn’t_ like to hear that she looked like a princess? She reined in the need to gush, however, and nodded politely, “Thank you very much, that’s very kind of you to say. Now, can you tell me what you’re doing here?”

His nose turned up in a haughty gesture that was _clearly_ Goblin King Jareth, dispelling _any_ doubt this boy wasn’t him. She just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’m here,” he said self-importantly, “because I want to be.”

Well, that didn’t help things out in the least, though it was _very_ like him. Of _course_ he would do as he wanted.

“What’s your name?” he asked again, his tone a little bit more insistent. “You know _my_ name.”

“Oh, uh,” she smiled wryly, “My name is Sarah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Play with me,” said he, repeating his earlier demand.

“Where… where are your parents, Jareth?” She asked, not really wanting to ask after the parents of the Goblin King. He was just a little boy though. An out of place little boy and she really had no idea what to do with him.

His face pinched in a grimace, “Who cares? I’m bored and I want to play with someone! I want to play with _you_ , so play with me!”

“ _I_ care. What if they’re worried about you? And are you _supposed_ to be here without their permission?” Of course, she was reaching. She didn’t even know if he _had_ parents. For all she knew The Goblin King popped up out of thin air. True it was doubtful, but hell, what did _she_ know about the Underground.

He looked utterly petulant, looking down at his little boots for a moment. When he looked back up though all that petulance was gone, replaced by an adorably pleading smile. “ _Ple-e-e-ase_?”

She was torn. On one hand, this little boy was completely adorable (of course he was adorable, considering what his older self looked like) and seemed to have no ulterior motive in having her play with him. On the other hand… this was _Jareth_ , an inhuman creature who loved toying with people’s lives, and she had no idea _why_ he was here, what he really wanted or, hell, if he ever remembered her. On the _other_ hand he was adorable and his eyes seemed to be free of any duplicity. Really, would there be any harm in playing a game with him?

 _Stupid question_.

But for the lack of any real reason to reject his demand Sarah shrugged and crouched down to his level, “What do you want to play?”

His face brightened, obviously feeling he’d won, “Let’s play hide and seek,” he suggested, a delighted twinkle in his eye.

Sarah blanched, “Well there’s… there’s not really much room in here to play that game, sweetie. Not to mention there aren’t any good places to hide.”

Little Jareth rolled his eyes, dropping her charred book onto her coffee table and holding out his hand. “No, you come with _me_.”

Suspicion filled her and a frown pulled at her lips, “Where would we go Jareth?”

“To _my_ home, to the Labyrinth,” said he in a tone which told her he thought it was completely obvious.

Her suspicion transformed to wariness, and slowly Sarah rose to full height. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a _great_ idea,” he cajoled, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet. “You _said_ you would play with me.”

“But you didn’t tell me _where_.”

His face contorted adorably in irritation, and he made a show of it by stomping a foot. “You _have_ to go with me, Sarah.”

“Now don’t start that,” she chastised, glancing up at a clock almost out of habit. Ten minutes after midnight. When she turned back the little boy was gone. Heart jumping to her throat, she whipped around almost frantically, searching for wherever he had gone. She found him quickly enough, innocently pacing her ceiling, looking down at her.

“Listen, maybe we should play something else. Maybe…” she sighed, “a card game?”

He grimaced at her again but said nothing and crossed his arms, his lower lip protruding in a pout. Sarah sighed again and ran a hand through her hair. What could they do that would amuse a little boy that _wouldn’t_ be detrimental to her physical and mental health? It’d been awhile since Toby was that age, but she’d been pretty good with him then, especially after… well, that one day. It wouldn’t be too hard to figure out something to do. Or better yet, how to get him out of her hair.

Maybe he’d be satisfied with a cup of hot chocolate. All kids liked hot chocolate, why would Jareth be any different?

“How about just some hot chocolate? I have the good kind too, you’ll love it,” she offered glancing to the kitchen even as she wondered if lighting a fire on that faulty piece of machinery was a smart idea.

A small hand gripped at the seam of her pajama pants, stalling her. Slightly shocked, Sarah looked down to Jareth’s resolved face. “No,” he said forcefully, “Let’s play hide and seek.”

Before she could again tell him no, her head was swimming, her body becoming lighter than a feather. A cloud of black and violet and glitter started to swirl about them, engulfing them so completely her vision was obscured. The oddly familiar and dizzying feeling of transport between planes overtook her and, wearily horrified, she knew he was bringing her back. Yet this time it wasn’t instant. Instead of blinking and there was the castle, her body was utterly weightless and she counted a full thirteen seconds before the sparkling fog around them faded. With a sigh she found herself facing the disturbingly familiar kingdom she’d had years and years ago. Thirteen years ago.

The Labyrinth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,510 Date Written: 18th – 19th December 2011
> 
> A.N. And we’re in the Labyrinth. Also This Is NOT PEDO! Not even remotely! Pedo is nasty, and I in no way shape or form condone it.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	3. Desolate

As quickly as she had recognized the Goblin Kingdom did she realize it wasn’t the way she’d experienced it before. Over the last years she’d wondered if the Underground was eternal, never changing, or if it was in constant upheaval like the Labyrinth itself. Often times she would sit and just remember what she had seen on her mission to retrieve her baby brother. Was it still the same? It had been so long since she’d been there, so long since she had even seen any of her friends that she’d even begun to create new places that she thought _might_ appear in the Underground.

This, however, she never even thought to imagine.

It was in complete ruin. The stone walls of the outer maze were near completely demolished, overrun by withered vines so badly in some areas that she couldn’t even see any stone. Clearly, even from her spot on the very same hill she’d been brought to before, she could see large sections of wall missing within the maze which created small voids. All she would need to do to solve the thing now would be to step over those walls. It was a punch in the gut to see something which had been so great and awe-inspiring become so desolate.

Not to mention the worst part, the part she could distinctly _feel_.

When she’d first been pulled to the Underground she’d been instantly overcome by the electric sensation of magic in the air. Invigorating and thoroughly addictive, it had given her enough of an edge to make it through those first nine hours. It had sank into her body and consciousness so well she’d felt by the end of her journey that she had _belonged_ there.

But now… now she felt nothing. There was nothing in the air anymore, not the faintest whisper of magic. This atmosphere was as barren of magic as it was back at home.

“What happened here?” she breathed, distraught by the change.

“It’s broken.”

Sarah looked down to the small boy still clutching her pants and found him too staring at the devastated landscape. He wore an expression far too mature, too pensive for his age. For a moment, Sarah became nervous, expecting him to perhaps turn back into his older self. Well, she supposed it would be simpler to handle him then. At least then she could attempt to throttle and scream at the complete bastard.

“What do you mean ‘it’s broken’?”

He shrugged a shoulder lamely, “It’s _broken_.”

She glanced briefly up to the landscape, thinking it was rather obvious that _something_ was broken. “ _What’s_ broken Jareth? The maze? What _happened_?”

His hand released the leg of her pants only to slip it into her palm. Reflexively she closed her own hand around his, as if trying to silently reassure him. He was only a child after all, even _if_ he were an otherworldly one. Fairly quickly, however, he looked away from the scene before them, settling innocent eyes again on her.

“Will you hide first? Or shall I?” He asked excitedly, spinning away and running a circle around her, spinning her about by the hand.

His eager question jolted her back to reality, and she frowned down at him, “No one is going to hide. You are going to take me back to my home this very instant young man.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, blowing raspberries before starting to fade away. Sarah’s eyes widened in horror. “No no no! Don’t disappear on me! You have to take me back!”

“No, I want to play,” his disembodied voice called out, echoing lightly in the air. “You find me first, and _then_ I’ll send you back.”

Sarah bit back a few curse words as she raked an irritated hand through her hair. Of course this little… little… creep was going to make her do something like this. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Why would she ever think that _Jareth_ , even a young Jareth, would be cooperative (being frightening because she thought he was frightening and stealing away her baby brother when she hadn’t really meant it did _not_ count as being cooperative!)? It couldn’t be that he would just leave her alone for the rest of her life, he had to harass her now too.

Well, at least her baby brother wasn’t involved this time. Not to mention she didn’t think there was a deadline this time around. All she had to do was find him to get out. Hopefully. He would probably switch up the rules in the middle of the whole thing and make it so she would have to stand on her head and sing a song backwards.

She growled almost inhumanly, planting her fists on her hips and glaring up at nothing. “At _least_ you could have let me get some real clothes and _shoes_ on!” she shouted, as if doing so would make him hear her.

Shaking her head irately she jogged down the little hill, carefully avoiding stones and sticks as she approached the edge of the maze. Up close she could see the damage to the place was much more extensive than she had originally thought. Vines were actually growing _out_ of the cracks in the walls, literally destroying it from the inside. The area was lifeless, not a fairy or insect of any sort in sight. It disappointed her a bit as she was honestly hoping to run into Hoggle again. The dwarf was a coward and all that but he was an informed coward, he would know what was going on.

With another, rather dismal sigh, Sarah carefully stepped over the lowest section of crumbled wall that she could find, eyes darting up and down the way. It was just as empty looking as she remembered the path to be, only she could now _see_ the openings in the wall more clearly. Whether it was because her eyes had been opened the first time she’d been through or because the walls were so damaged she didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to question her luck. Instead she walked down a bit to find another low break in the stone, skirting around a tree growing smack dab in the middle of the path.

Stepping lightly into the main of the outer maze, she couldn’t help but stop and stare at that complete an utter ruin. Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t good.

Slowly she moved on, stepping over cold stone and vine, climbing over the crumbled walls with ease and avoiding tripping over the cobblestones which had been pulled out of place. In some, where the stone had been pulled up, she could see small little rabbit holes, small tunnels befitting little imps. She frowned as she stepped over one and wondered where they were now. It was obvious there was nothing here; even the wall-living, eyed moss wasn’t there anymore. Did that mean the two doors out of the outer Labyrinth were no longer there? Was she stuck in here?

Despite her misgivings, her sadness at finding the place she dreamt about being in such condition, Sarah pressed on. There was nothing _to_ do but to try to find Jareth and make him take her home. She didn’t belong here and she had nothing to do with what was happening to Jareth or the maze so that little niggling feeling of guilt meant _nothing_.

It didn’t take long for her to get careless. Within a quarter of an hour, already beginning to get agitated over the creepy sense of emptiness the place now had, Sarah forgot to look where she was stepping. With a loud yelp, Sarah fell back _hard_ on her rear, knocking the breath from her lungs. Embarrassed and angry, she laid back as she waited as her breath returned in short painful gasps, glaring at the grey sky.

After while her curiosity and irritation got the better of her, and she sat up to see what she’d stood on. With a brief glance to her foot to make sure she wasn’t bleeding – thankfully she wasn’t – her eyes swept over the ground in front of her. Immediately her eyes fell upon something which sparkled even with the sun hiding behind clouds. Shattered bits of what looked like glass littered the ground in front of her, sparkling of its own accord. Hesitantly she picked up a larger piece of it, thumb running over the smooth, rounded side of it. It was… one of Jareth crystals?

Horror spreading through her, Sarah sat up on her knees and picked up another piece of it. With shaking hands she tried to find how they fit together, vainly, and perhaps a bit foolishly, trying to put it back together. This couldn’t be happening. Jareth had _dropped_ these things, tossed them in the air, made them _float_. Why was it _broken_?!

Eyes tearing up as the full impact of what she was seeing finally began to settle in, Sarah dropped the pieces and stood. With new resolve, she pressed on, keeping her eyes open for the child King and for the two certain doors. There was something going on here and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be here to figure out what.

She needed to find that kid _now_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,549 Date(s) Written: 19th – 27thDecember 2011
> 
> A.N. Enjoy.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	4. All that Remains

Two hours. Just about two hours walking and running and jogging through the ruined maze and she was getting nowhere. Neither hide nor bleached hair of Jareth anywhere, no little worm, no dwarf, no truthful or lying doors. There was _nothing_ left in here, nothing else!

Resisting the urge to scream and shout and kick the ground like a child throwing a temper tantrum, Sarah paced back and forth in agitation. She’d figured with the Labyrinth being in the condition it was she would have been able to find the way out more easily. It obviously wasn’t moving anymore and the walls were basically rubble at her feet. All she needed to do was to walk a near direct line to the castle, stepping over the walls in her way. This should have been a cakewalk.

‘ _It’s a piece of cake._ ’

She cringed, wiping a hand over her eyes in her frustration. Oh it was cake alright, and it had _stones_ and _glass_ and _petulant Goblin King vindictiveness_ in it. What other reason did he have to do this but revenge? Instead of getting closer to the castle that she was walking _directly towards_ , she didn’t seem to get an inch nearer to it. Whatever was happening with this place it was definitely the work of Jareth.

With a heaving sigh, Sarah leaned back against a crumbling wall and looked down at her filthy, hurting feet. Of course, she was more than likely taking it for granted that there was nothing else in here. In fact she was pretty sure she was. It couldn’t be possible that there was _nothing_ left in the Labyrinth, _something_ had to be there. Like the two doors. The two doors were the way _out_ of the Labyrinth, and it wouldn’t be smart to remove an exit, would it?

Unless she was taking it for granted that there _had_ to be something in here.

Stupid Labyrinth logic.

Running her nails over her scalp, Sarah glanced up and down the hall she was in, wondering what she should do next. There really was no absolute reason to get to the Goblin City or the Castle Beyond Said City this time. Sure Jareth might be there, but odds were he was still somewhere close by laughing his little royal butt off at her. Heck, he was probably plotting something devious and getting some nasty creature to set on her. To be fair he hadn’t done it before, but at this point she was irritated enough with him to accuse him of doing something so cruel.

And as if she’d summoned it with a mere thought, Sarah heard a gusty grunt from around the corner.

Eyes wide, she jerked away from the wall and stumbled a step away from the sound. Almost immediately she rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, forcing herself to relax. Why was she being so stupid now? The last time she’d heard something disturbing around the corner of the Labyrinth it’d turned out to be her good friend Ludo. It was just the Labyrinth again, its condition playing games with her mind.

Steeling her nerves, the young woman ran her hands over the front of her cami and took one last look behind her. She tiptoed to the edge of the wall and peeked around the corner, breath held in her lungs.

The sight of an old, familiar figure slowly walking along the way made her nerves disappear completely. The Wiseman.

Much excited at seeing _something_ alive in the desolate maze, Sarah hopped out from behind her cover and nearly skipped to the strange creature. “Hello!”

The birdhat squawked immediately and turned too look at her, its big eyes on her instantly. The old man, however, was much slower, leisurely turning and gazing with tired eyes.

“Oh, it’s you again,” the bird said, its irritating voice sounding highly irritated.

Her smile didn’t waver one bit, “Yes, hi! I’m so glad to see you!”

“Ah,” said the Wiseman on a heavy breath, his tone still utterly fascinated that she was there, “the young woman again.”

“Lost again I see,” Bird observed, cocking its head to the side.

She nodded, “I know, but I think I’ll be fine this time around. Maybe.” She flashed them a wry smile, “What I really want to know is what’s happening around here. Why is the Labyrinth like this?”

“Why is the Labyrinth like this?” Wiseman repeated slowly. Briefly he looked around, as if reacquainting himself with his surroundings, “Because this is the way it is, of course.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, biting back the need to tell the withered creature that he’d told her nothing. _Again_. Really, such blunt honesty would more than likely stop his heart. Instead she nodded, “Can you tell me how it got this way?”

“Well,” he paused and looked up to the bird attached to him, not seeming to know what to say.

“No,” it finished in a matter-of-fact manner.

She closed her eyes against the annoyance, shoving it away as she continued to smile. “You don’t know?”

“Everything is the way it is for a reason,” answered the old one assuredly, a content, self-assured smile on his face. “This is all that remains because that’s just the way it is.”

Until the bird spoke up again, “All that crap means he has no idea.”

The look on the Wiseman’s face soured as he looked up, “Shut up you.”

“I’m just telling the tru-“

“She is not here to listen to _your_ drivel-“

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted the bird on a sly sigh, “She’s here to listen to _yours_.”

“Well of course she is!” affirmed the Wiseman a second before Bird’s words sunk in, “Now wait just a moment you parasitic, flightless menace-“

Knowing she was going to get nothing else from these two today, not that she got anything at _all_ out of them, Sarah slowly began to back away. She didn’t have anything to offer as payment and she suspected they would again be asking a price on the information they didn’t give her. This would be the perfect time to get away of course, with them so preoccupied they wouldn’t notice her escape.

And yet just as she was about to round the corner of a wall, just as she thought she was home-free, his graveled voice called out to her. Biting back a curse, Sarah looked back at him warily.

“Remember,” said he, his voice more cryptic than he’d ever sounded before, “to arrive at the place you want to be all you need to do is stay where you are.”

Taken aback, the young woman could only nod stiltedly under his direct, clear stare. She wasn’t sure if she should listen to such an ominous declaration from _him_. Not when most of the things he offered to her before were basically useless to her. And yet…

Pursing her lips, she nodded one more time to the old man and walked away, out of his line of sight.

She walked for awhile as if in a trance, unseeing as she mechanically avoided debris and stepped over walls, her mind trying to break down what he had implied. What did it mean? If it meant anything, that is. His _first_ advice to her, ‘ _Sometimes the way forward is also the way back,_ ’ had basically turned out to be complete and utter crap, the same could probably be said for this too. All she had to do was ignore it. Except… except for the expression on his face.

Sighing, Sarah looked around for a good spot, figuring it wouldn’t really hurt to try what he’d said. True she wasn’t exactly trying to _get_ anywhere, just trying to make a certain little prince appear, but she didn’t have anything else to do.

She chose a bit of clear space to sit in, leaning back against the wall as she brought up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs. All at once, as she suspected would happen, she felt her muscles begin to protest the inactivity. After near constant movement for the past two hours or so the ache was _already_ beginning.

But she ignored the minor pain and merely waited. Her eyes carefully scanned her surroundings for any change, any minor abnormality that might help her. Anything at all.

And yet fairly quickly, her attention waned. It was all the same anyway, all broken stone and depressing.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, staring at crumbled stone and withered weeds but it felt like forever before something happened. Or more, _someone_ happened. One moment Sarah was looking at some cracks in the cobblestone and the next there was a pair of leather boots impeding her view. Adult-sized boots.

Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening to seemingly impossible degrees. Slowly her eyes climbed up the length of slender leg, eyes settling only briefly on a certain _area_ , up to a pair of annoyed and angry blue eyes.

The Goblin King stood before her in his full splendor, outfit of purely black making him stand out all the more. His gloved hands were planted firmly on his narrow hips as he looked down his nose at her. He was just as intimidating as ever and just as beautiful, the hard angles of his face and peculiarity of his eyes making it impossible for her to look away. Even in his obvious anger, eyes blazing with barely concealed rage he was the loveliest thing she’d ever seen.

“And just what the bloody hell,” he began, growling voice dripping with venom, “do _you_ think you are doing _here_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,609  
> Date Written: 3rd – 10th January 2012
> 
> A.N. I have 9 chapters written, and am in process of writing another, so as I write that, you'll be getting a daily chapter until you catch up with FF.net.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	5. Answers Unquestioned

Fairly quickly she was brought out of her Goblin King induced trance and back into reality. She wasn’t in a fantasy where the Goblin King didn’t have a hidden agenda and would hand feed her bon-bon’s. She was in the _real_ world where he would toss her in a stinky swamp for kicks and feed her poisoned fruit. An instant later fury swept through her like a fire in dry brush. The object of her suffering was here, she could now chew him out.

Before she knew it Sarah was on her feet, mere inches from Jareth, a finger poking roughly into his breast-plate. He didn’t even blink in the face of her obvious wrath, in fact he seemed _amused_. “This is all _your_ fault!”

“ _My_ fault?” He echoed disbelievingly, “and how, pray tell, did you come up with _that_ conclusion.”

Her hands fell to her hips, a near mirror reflection of his stance, “This is the _Labyrinth_ ,” she said slowly, “It’s _your_ Labyrinth, and I didn’t want to be here. I was _brought_ here by a mini _you_. Conclusion? _All your fault!_ ”

“A ‘mini _me’_?” He circled her slowly, just as he’d done so many years ago. This time she wouldn’t let his predatory nature get to her, no way she was going to fear him. “An utterly absurd thought, Sarah, the Labyrinth must be getting to you this time.”

Her face heated up in her anger, “Are you kidding me?! I-“

“I can see you’ve become quite the woman, Sarah,” he interrupted, rolling the ‘r’ of her name seductively as a licentious smile curling his lips.

“It’s been _thirteen_ years, Jareth.” She rolled her eyes to show him she was _not_ affected by his attention. Even if she really was. “I’m not a little girl anymo-“

She was cut short when his gloved hand wrapped around her bare arm and he began to gently, but insistently guide her away, “Come Sarah,” his voice a purr, “it’s not safe here.”

Wincing as his brisk pace began making her slip and step on stone strewn across the way, Sarah tugged against his grip. “Hey, w-wait a second Jareth, I can’t walk-“

He stopped immediately and turned to look at her. He seemed to know what she was saying immediately as his eyes fell to her feet. Slowly his eyes drifted up her body and all at once she was painfully aware she was in her pajamas, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. She felt a blush slowly creep up her neck and over her cheeks as his suddenly heated gaze all but ravaged her. She resisted the urge to cross her free arm over her chest, not wanting him to know how nervous he was making her.

“Now what is _this_ you are wearing?”

Her blush became hotter, her face pinching in a frown as she tugged at her thin camisole, “My pajamas. It was the middle of the night when _someone_ decided to kidnap me.”

“How _delightful_.”

Her head was suddenly spinning again, and she wasn’t so sure if it was from the suggestion in his eyes or the somehow shifting world around her. At first she thought it was entirely _him_ , that merely his stare was making her like this. As soon as the cloud of glitter began to float around them, however, she felt the sensation of her feet lift off the ground. It wasn’t just his gaze, he was transporting them somewhere.

When the glitter cleared, Sarah looked around and, much to her relief, found herself in the inner, greener maze. She smiled softly when she found it completely unchanged, the hedges still as green as ever, the cobblestone straight and flat on the ground. It was perfect. “It’s just like I remember,” sighed she wistfully.

“Well of course it is,” Jareth said behind her, his tone amused.

Almost nostalgically she ran a hand over the leaves of the hedge. “What happened to the other maze? I talked to the Wiseman but…”

“It was you of course. It’s always you.”

His matter of fact tone annoyed her, and the young woman turned around to tell him off. Her words were cut off by confusion, however, when she found him with a suddenly appearing pair of boots in one hand and a jacket over his other arm. Wordlessly he held out the boots to her, his expression cocky and over-confident. Unable to do anything else, she _really_ didn’t want to step on anything that hurt anymore, Sarah accepted the boots with a gracious nod. In silence she brushed her feet clear of dirt and slipped on the stockings she found in the boots. She pulled on the leather boots, tucking her pants into them, and bit back the need to groan with delight. Who knew goblin made shoes would cradle feet _this_ well.

Just as soon as she straightened up to thank him, Sarah felt the touch of gloves against her shoulder blade, trailing over the paper thin straps of her cami.

Her cheeks brightened in another, harsher blush and she whirled around to chew him out. “Do you _mind_?”

“Not at all,” Jareth answered blithely, a not so subtle gleam of self-satisfaction in his eye as he dropped the jacket onto her shoulders. Any thought of thanking him gone, she jerked her hands into the sleeves of the leather coat and closing the lapels tightly around herself.

“Since we established that I _really_ don’t want to be here,” she griped angrily, “You think you can take me back home now and leave me alone?”

“Hmm,” said he noncommittally, eyes slowly sweeping over her form. His right was nearly as dilated at the other which made her feel more naked than she’d felt before. “You know, pet, you look so much more _delicious_ in that piece than I ever did.”

She sighed, eyes closing in irritation as she realized why she would be able to fit another person in with her. She was wearing _his_ coat. It was worse than being naked with _any_ male, but _this one_? Biting back the urge to scream for the thousandth time since he appeared before her, she glared at him. “Home? _Now_?”

“Sorry love, tried that already.” He still wasn’t looking directly at her, but the way his clothes looked on her. Dear Lord, if this is how he was reacting to a _jacket_ then what about one of his _shirts_?

Be kind. Rewind. She did _not_ just think that. Nor visualize how _he_ would look in _just_ his shirt. _Get thee behind me demon thoughts!_

“What do you mean ‘you already tried’?”

The Goblin King spread his hands innocently, his eyes finally rising to meet her eye. “I meant what I said, Sarah. I already tried to bring you home. I cannot.”

She stared at him, speechless. He… couldn’t take her home? Or he _wouldn’t_? She studied him for any sign of trickery, any dishonesty. She wouldn’t put it past him to keep her here just because he wanted to torment her, tell her that she was trapped there just to mess with her.

He wasn’t. Not this time.

Her head swam dangerously and, suddenly weak in the knees, Sarah crouched down with a groan, shaking hands covering her face. “Oh my God. What the hell is going on here?”

“Calm down, Sarah,” Jareth said gently, sternly. “All is not lost.”

She glared up at him angrily, “I’m _stuck_ here and it’s _your_ fault. _How is this okay_?!”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, “Still blaming others for your misdeeds I see. And I didn’t say it was ‘ _okay_ ’ did I? I said all was not lost.”

“ _My_ misdeeds? I didn’t do anything to you! I didn’t do anything to this _place_.”

A strange look crossed Jareths face and for a moment he only stared down at her. After that moment he turned away in a huff, “Looks like your first journey through the Labyrinth did nothing for your wit, Sarah, perhaps a second go would do you some good.”

“ _What_?!” shrieked she, bolting up and racing after him. “You can’t do that!”

He said nothing but disappeared in a cloud of glittery smoke, leaving her in his wake cursing the very ground he strut on. She screeched as many expletives as she could think of as loud as she could to the sky until she had no more breath. And once her breath left her she proceeded to kick everything in sight, enjoying the thought of scuffing the boots given by him on _his_ things.

Eventually, breathless and toes aching, Sarah slumped against a large vase and took in gasping breaths. Much to her irritation she found her boots pristine, not a single scuff from her little tantrum. Stupid Underground magic things.

“You have temper tantrums worse than _me_.”

Sarah gasped at the sudden, small voice. Her head jerked up in surprise, eye wide as she sought whatever had snuck up on her.

Her heartbeat slowed, the tenseness in her body waning when she saw the little boy (Jareth?) who’d brought her here. He smiled beguilingly at her, looking pure and innocent as he waited for her to react.

“There you are,” she said lamely. “Here to bring me back home now?”

“This game was too boring,” said he, scrunching his nose in distaste and shaking his head. “Play a different game with me.”

She squatted down in front of him, resting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees. “Do you know _how_ to get me home, Jareth?”

The little boy smiled again, clasping his hands behind his back, looking up at her through his lashes, “Play with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,613  
> Date Written: 11th January 2012
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	6. The Limit of Existence

The sun was setting. Or at least the sky was darkening. She hadn’t ever _seen_ the sun in this place so she was doubtful that it existed here. She figured it was some sort of charm or enchantment or spell that regulated the time of day. Of course it really didn’t matter. The point was that it was getting later in the day and night was coming up.

And Little Jareth was still following her.

“ _Why_ won’t you play with me?” asked he in the saddest tone he could muster. Sarah didn’t buy it for a second.

“It’s too dark sweetie. I have to find a place to sleep for the night.”

“It’s _not_ to dark to play,” he countered beguilingly, tugging on the hem of her ( _Jareth’s_ ) coat. “It’s _not_.”

“Yes it is, hun,” she admonished gently, “Look I promise I’ll play with you tomorrow, but right now I’m actually getting very tired.”

“No you _don’t_ need to go to bed,” he was beginning to whine, tugging more insistently on the coat, “you _don’t_.”

She stopped in her tracks with a sigh, planting her hands on her hips and preparing to use the sternest tone she could use. She remembered when Toby had gone through this stage, though it hadn’t been as bad as _this_ little guy. All he needed was a stern conviction from her and he would stop. Pout yes, but he would stop and let her find some place to sleep. Tomorrow he would be no worse for the wear and she would play with him again until he would bring her back home.

Upon turning however, whatever sternness she’d mustered up went away. Little Jareth rubbed tiredly at his eyes, sniffling a little as he fought off sleepiness. Immediately her heart went out to him, all conviction to scold him gone. Instinctively, she held out her arms to him, picking him up when he raised his own. Fairly quickly he was all but wrapped around her, face hidden in the hair at her neck. She nearly melted at the utter adorableness of him but steeled her emotions. There was no way she was going to give in to the personality of him in _any_ form.

“You just have to be the most high-maintenance person however you look don’t you?” She muttered under her breath.

“Yes,” he replied sleepily, without knowing she wasn’t truly speaking to him. Sarah couldn’t help but smile at the blatant innocence.

She continued on, easily bearing his light but dead weight. She’d been hoping to find the doors to get to the forest so she could at least find a nice grassy area to bed down in. She wasn’t that young anymore, she couldn’t sleep on absolutely everything like she used to. The last time she’d slept in a random area (that one broken down bench in the park) she’d been three sheets to the wind drunk and hadn’t cared. When she’d woken up she’d hurt _everywhere_.

She didn’t know how long she wandered, exhaustion guiding her feet, making her stumble around like a drunken idiot. What she _did_ know was that it was too long. She was going to give up and collapse on the ground, sleep where ever she fell. She’d done it before, back in college. It hadn’t been _that_ bad, not really.

Yet just as she was going to do just that, luck seemed to smile in her direction. A nice, likely looking spot revealed itself like a breadcrumb to the starved. With a quiet groan she stumbled over to the low wall and leaned back against it, sliding down almost bonelessly. In her arms she shifted little Jareth, smiling when she found him deep in sleep.

“Well at least one of us is comfy,” murmured she. Closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the stone behind her as she prepared to fall into possibly the best sleep she’d every had.

“Sarah?”

Her eyes snapped open, head jerking up at the sound of her name. Blearily she found a familiar form looking down at her. Or at least, looking at her from eyelevel, the dwarf was never all that tall. She couldn’t help the bright smile on her face as some of her sleepiness was chased away, “Hoggle!”

He didn’t match her excitement, not that she had expected him to, he had never really expressed much positive emotion. But he didn’t smile at her or greet her, tell her that he’d missed her in the years she’d been away. Instead his gaze was on the small child in her arms, expression wary and confused. “What’re you doin’ here? And with _him_?”

Sarah glanced down at the little boy drooling on her, absentmindedly brushing stray hairs away from his eyes, “ _He_ brought me here, and _he_ won’t leave me alone.”

Hoggle frowned even more than usual, staring hard at the boy before gesturing for her to get up. “It’s not safe out here. Come on inside.”

She glanced around, not seeing anything. Nevertheless she rose to her feet, careful not to jostle the little boy in her arms who cooed adorably in protest. Tiredly she followed the limping dwarf through a passage she hadn’t seen before, watched as he pulled a doorknob out of his pocket and stuck it in a knobby hole in a thick tree. He turned it and a well hidden door appeared and opened before them.

“Watch your step,” Hoggle called behind him as he stepped inside. Sarah followed immediately, her tired mind having some trouble reconciling a space _much_ large than the tree it existed in.

His home, for it was obviously his home, was just as simple as he himself was. A ratty bed in one corner, a threadbare armchair next to a tilting bookcase, a wooden dining table and chairs within a kitchen nook. Here and there were various sparkling items, some things obviously cheap, others glittering rather suspiciously. Before she could investigate any further, the small dwarf gestured to a curtained off area. “You and the kid can sleep there.”

With a nod of thanks, Sarah pulled back the thick, strangely new fabric. She blinked in surprise when she found a large, absurdly ornate bed behind it. Confused she looked back to Hoggle, “What… what’s this?”

The grizzled creature looked over briefly, “Ah, well. His Highness… has need to stay here sometimes.”

Slowly she shook her head, gently laying the little boy down on the bed and prying his hand from gripping her coat as she rose. “Jareth needs to stay here?”

“Sometimes.”

She crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side as she studied Hoggle. He was puttering around in his little kitchen, putting a kettle on the fire pit as he all but ignored her. “Hoggle, what’s going on?” Asked she quietly, “who is this kid?”

The dwarf sighed heavily and took a glance back at her. He was silent for a long while, tempting her to start blurting questions and demanding answers. It wouldn’t help her case, she knew, so she bit her tongue.

Eventually, as Hoggle was pouring tea, he glanced over again. “That’s Jareth.”

She shook her head slowly, “Jareth is an adult-like jerk with a god-complex.” She pointed to the boy sleeping cuddled under the blankets, “That’s an attention deprived little con artist. Note the age difference.”

“I can see the difference, Sarah,” Hoggle said idly, handing her a tea cup. “But that _is_ King Jareth.”

She stared at him for a moment before turning and looking at the little boy with some suspicion, “I don’t understand. I _saw_ Jareth, not Mini Jareth but the annoying life sized one.”

He shrugged as if unconcerned and limped to a chair. “I know it’s hard to understand, Sarah, but somethin’ you did that day changed everythin’.”

“Wha-“

“That _is_ Jareth. He’s been switchin’ between his normal self and this kid ever since you left. Whatever you did…”

A hysterical laugh escaped her throat, but she smothered it before it could get out of hand. “This… this _is_ my fault?”

Hoggle snuck a wary look at her, “When it comes to him, Sarah, it’s _always_ you.”

Tears blurred her eyesight and Sarah bowed her head, studying her cup so Hoggle wouldn’t see her cry. She only spoke when she felt confident she would burst out sobbing. “Why is the Labyrinth like this, Hoggle? Was that me too?”

The little house was quiet yet loud in its silence, loud in what the dwarf wasn’t saying. With a shaking hand she set her cup on the table next to the bed and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

“About two months or so after you left,” he said softly, “we all started noticin’ the Labyrinth changin’. It was… dyin’. Jareth, when he was… normal, couldn’t do anythin’ about it. Not when… And him as a child… that little kid doesn’t understand what’s goin’ on.”

“What _is_ going on?” she asked with a sniffle.

“I told you,” there was a tinge of annoyance in his voice, “the Labyrinth is dyin’. Its magic is goin’, it’s shrivelin’ up.”

She nodded to the floor, blinking away the tears, “And Jareth? Is _he_ dying?”

“…Yeah.”

Again she had to squelch a panic-stricken laugh, chancing a look back at the boy, “He doesn’t look like he’s dying. Are you sure?”

Hoggle sighed again, “That’s because he’s not dyin’ in your sense of the word. His powers are diminishin’, he’s losin’ control and so his body is revertin’ to a time when lack of control was expected.”

“As a child?” Unable to help herself Sarah reached out and brushed her fingers through Jareth’s white blond hair. “Then… if he stays like this he’ll be fine?”

When he didn’t answer her, Sarah looked up and found the dwarf looking to the ground. “Hoggle?”

He only glanced up briefly. “There’s a limit to this sort of existence, Sarah. He’s lived like this too long.”

“What… when…”

“Jareth has thirteen days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,666  
> Date Written: January 11th - February 25th 2012
> 
> A.N. I apologize for being late with this chapter. I took a much needed trip out on the town yesterday and saw my friends play. . . and then drank. It was nice to not dwell in my own mind for a change.


	7. Rest for the Wicked

She dreamt she was dying.

She dreamt of coldness and breathlessness; that the world faded before her eyes to leave her in nothing but a grey, lifeless purgatory. All of her ceased to be. No thought, no sensation could be held in the empty space around her, the empty space she was. Second after endless second every bit of what and who she had been drifted away. She’d no voice to cry out, no hands to grasp, she was nothing but the sensation of slowly diminished existence. She dreamt she’d ceased to be.

And then suddenly she was being pulled back together. No longer drifting from herself but gathering, warmth sprouting from within. Sight returned to reveal nonsensical shadows, shapes, and colors, all moving as one, breathing as one. They danced upon her flesh and sang in her ear, pulled at her hair and whispered her secrets. Every new breath she took in, every sigh she gave out matched the breath of that around her.

‘ _We would be, if not for you. We would be, if not for you. We would be, if not for you._ ’

Sarah slowly became aware of the world around her as she woke; the slight breeze in the air, the scent of forest wood, and the quiet sounds of breathing around her. A comfortable weight pressed against her chest, hindering her breathing rather pleasantly. The body warmed silk wrapping around her held in the languid sensation of just waking up, the heaviness of sleep. She didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to face what the Labyrinth was going to throw at her today.

Heaving a small sigh, she blinked her eyes open, staring blearily up to the ceiling for a moment before reaching up to wipe away the sandy sleep. A weight on her arm stopped her from moving too far just as fingers twitched around her ribcage, just under her breast. Instantly, Sarah stiffened, all sleep banished as she realized what was going on, even without looking down.

When during the night he’d changed into his matured form, she didn’t know. Last thing she remembered was a little boy, lying along the headboard and a few, well-aimed kicks to her head. Yet at some point he _did_ transform into his true form and he’d decided it was a good idea to get close. _Very_ close.

An adult sized Jareth was tucked against her side, head cushioned on her breast as he cuddled into her. His hand seemed all but glued to her ribs, this thumb twitching occasionally to brush against the underside of her breast. Whether accidental or not so much it only served to irritate her and remind her _why_ with him she could get so irritated.

“Jareth,” Sarah said loudly. “Wake up or I’m going to knee you in an unpleasant place.”

From beyond the curtain she could swear she heard Hoggle chuckle. Jareth himself didn’t answer and neither did he move, seemingly very happy where he was. She decided against kneeing a sleeping Goblin King in the groin as she figured it had to be akin to waking a cranky lion with a god complex and access to devious magicks. Instead, with an almost inhuman growl, Sarah pushed and wiggled her way out from under him, prying his fingers from her side and kicking his legs from entwining in hers, all the while marveling at his ability to sleep so heavily.

When she was finally freed, Sarah pulled the curtain open and flinched at the sudden, brighter light. Ignoring the grunt of annoyance behind her, she peeked around for grizzled dwarf, wondering if she could ask to raid his kitchen. Early in the mornings she was always _starved_ , and she hadn’t exactly eaten anything the day before when she’d been trying to find Mini-Jareth.

Finding he was gone, Sarah frowned, absently rubbing her growling stomach as she wondered if Hoggle would mind her sneaking around his kitchen and eating all his food. With a sigh she concluded he would more than likely not mind but in good conscience she couldn’t clean him out. Not to mention he probably didn’t have anything humanly edible in this place. So instead she moved to his little bookcase, taking her mind off her hunger by looking through his collection.

To her surprise, she found all of them all to be text books and biographies of human people. Blinking, she pulled a thinner, more worn book simply titled ‘Cloelia.’ She thumbed through it curiously, wondering why one of the fae had _these_ kinds of books.

“You, Precious, are the worst sort of bedmate.”

She didn’t even look up as the Goblin King slowly paced forward behind her, his voice a huskier purr from sleep. Instead she read a random passage in the book, something about a prison break. “I hear you only have a little bit of time left. Karma’s a bitch isn’t it?”

“You have your moments.”

Her mouth pursed in irritation, but she refused to rise to the bait. “And how am I a worse bedmate than an ill-tempered, head-kicking prince who turns into a groping, clingy pervert?”

His hand brushed over her waist as he passed her to the small kitchen. “You didn’t linger with me of course.”

Unable to keep an honest interest in the book anymore, Sarah replaced it and glared at Jareth as he pulled a disgustingly intricate tea kettle out of thin air and set it in the fireplace. Her anger faded, however, as she just stared at him. He didn’t _look_ like he was dying. He looked as healthy and as ethereal as ever, there was absolutely _nothing_ there to tell her that this male was on borrowed time. “Is it true?”

He glanced up briefly before turning to the table and conjuring up two tea cups to match the kettle. “Is what true?”

“Are you… are you really dying?”

Jareth swiveled around on his heel before dropping down onto one of the small kitchen chairs. He reclined lazily, extending his legs out and crossing his legs at his ankles as he rested his hands on his stomach, fingers entwined. “Whoever told you that?”

She was reluctant to tell him. Who knew what he would do to Hoggle if he found out he’d all but ratted him out. But by the look on the Goblin Kings face, he already knew. “Hoggle said you had thirteen days.”

“Twelve now.”

His glibness with it was disarming and for a moment she was speechless. Patiently and silently Jareth waited for her to find her tongue again, mismatched eyes all but boring into her. “Why didn’t… I don’t…” she took in a fortifying breath, “How long have you known?”

“Since the day you rejected my offer.”

Her heart beat hard against her ribs. So long and no one had even told her? “Can you do anything about it?”

“No.”

Again his brutal, blunt honesty nearly brought her up short and she bit her lower lip. She couldn’t really blame him for it, this cruel honesty. She _was_ , if everyone was telling the truth, the reason for his dying. “But…”

Jareth rose from his seat and was hovering behind her so swiftly she barely had a chance to blink. She tensed as he settled his hands on her hips and his chin on her shoulder. “You are not worried about me, are you Sarah?” His tone was at once patronizing and touched.

She jerked away from him, biting down the need to back kick him in the groin. “What’s going to happen to the Labyrinth?”

“What’s going to happen to the Labyrinth?” he pouted unconvincingly, “My Precious Sarah, I’m hurt. Is that all you care about?”

She didn’t bother to answer, merely crossing her arms and staring him down. She wasn’t going to play this stupid game with him, not when she’d been playing mind games and _literal_ games with his younger self all day yesterday.

Sensing that she wasn’t going to give in, Jareth frowned in irritation, crossing his arms as well. “What do you _think_ is going to happen to my Labyrinth? What’s _already_ happening to my Labyrinth?”

She pursed her lips to keep them from trembling, “It’s going to die?”

The kettle began its slow ascending shriek, louder in the strained silence than it had a right to be. Jareth reached out barehanded and pulled it out of the fire, not even flinching at the flames licking his skin. She watched as he sauntered to the table and poured the water, his free hand summoning a plate of food from nothing. Instantly the mouthwatering aroma had her drooling, her stomach clenching and growling in a painful reminder of just how hungry she was.

He set the plate (piled high with eggs and sausages and bacon and fruits looking so delicious she couldn’t help but stare) in front of a seat and leisurely took the other, staring at her pointedly. Suspicion rattled through her like ice.

“What do you think I’m stupid?” Sarah asked snidely, “I remember the last time _you_ gave me food.”

“Don’t be so obtuse, Sarah,” his tone was placating, almost reassuring, “You’ve already proven very capable of breaking _that_ spell. Why would I even try again?”

She grit her teeth, “I stopped trying to figure out how you think a _long_ time ago Jareth.”

“Pity,” but he sighed heavily and sipped at his tea. “Unlike last time, Precious Thing, I have no use in bespelling you, it would only waste my time. What I _do_ have use for is you properly fed. I don’t need a half-starved human traipsing around and passing out in my Labyrinth.” The Goblin King gestured widely to the plate, “Please, Sarah, eat. I don’t have time enough left to play games.”

Not for the first time the sheer honesty she found rattled her. There was no pretense this time around, no smoke or mirrors. He wasn’t trying to trick her or stall her. The difference in him was disturbingly startling. Hesitantly, Sarah did as he asked, silently thanking him when he didn’t gloat or preen as she ate.

Eventually, when she was full and the plate nearly wiped clean, her stomach deliciously tight, Sarah peeked back up to Jareth. Upon seeing his distant, pensive expression she couldn’t help but ask the question which burned her tongue since she’d been told he was dying. “Is there any way to stop it? Is there any way to… to save you?”

“Of course there is, Sarah.”

She looked at him almost hopefully, but his half smile dashed her hopes.

“Is it possible?”

He raised his cup for a sip, “The likelihood is… unlikely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,781  
> Date Written: 27th February - 2nd March 2012
> 
> A.N. Not having a good day. . . and seeing THAT date isn't helping me much. Anyway, enjoy.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	8. Painted Waters

If she stopped to think about it, looked at it upside-down and through frosted glass, she could see a sense of poetic justice about this whole situation. She apparently ruined the Labyrinth and now it, or _he_ , had brought her back so she could share in what she had done to it. It was dying and it was taking her with it she supposed.

Sarah pouted childishly at her reflection in the clear water of a fountain she’d found. Sitting on the rim she dangled her feet in its cool depth, wiggling her toes occasionally to entertain the rainbow bright fishes nibbling at her skin. They were beautiful creatures, lovely and surprisingly tame for a Labyrinth being. They could be luring her into a false sense of security, of course, pecking sweetly at her toes to hide how truly devious they were. She didn’t think so really. Nothing in the Underground truly hid what they were. Devious and manipulative and at times horrible, but they never misled her to believe they were something different.

And it killed her to think she’d wronged them so greatly.

“There is no use in feeling guilt, Precious.”

Her eyes darted to the reflection of the male behind her, taking in his neutral expression. “How do you know what I was thinking?” she asked suspiciously, “You can’t read minds… can you?”

A disturbingly annoying smug look appeared, “Were that true, would I find myself in your thoughts often?”

“No more than Hoggle or Sir Didymous or Ludo.”

The amusement didn’t stray from his eyes, as if he detected her deceit. Before he could call attention to it, however, she nodded down to the creatures at her feet. “What’re they called?”

“Fish.”

“Ha. What kind of fish are they?”

Jareth chuckled and leaned down over her shoulder, the front of him pressing closely to her back as he dipped an ungloved finger into the water. Instantly the brightly colored animals all congregated to their king, nibbling at the digit with glee. “They are called Water Painters; lovely to behold and dangerous to the uninformed.”

She watched the display, watched as Jareth ran a finger over their scaly bodies. “Uninformed?”

“Don’t worry, Precious,” was the silky reply, “They’ll not harm you while I’m here.”

A dubious eyebrow rose, “Why’s that?”

“That which they want is caught deep within you,” his other hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her neck, “Besides, none dare to harm a king’s queen before him.”

With that, she rolled her eyes and bumped back against the fae behind her, pushing him gently away. The Water Painters fluttered about for a moment at the loss of His Majesty’s touch, but quickly settled back at her feet. “ _When_ are you going to turn back into a kid?” she inquired wryly.

The Goblin King hummed low in his throat and sat down beside her, facing the opposite way. “When are you going to open your eyes?”

“Quite open, thank you.”

“So you say.”

With an irritated frown she watched as he pulled his glove back on, long fingers jerking what had to be high quality leather back over pale skin. Memories of the crystals those hands used to juggle came back fairly quickly as she stared and her grimace became more concerned. “So, you aren’t going to tell me what’s wrong with this place are you?”

He only glanced over as he buttoned the glove. “That’s the nature of curses, pet. One cannot just tell another what the curse is or else it would be absurdly easy to break it.”

Sarah sighed dismally, “That makes too much sense to be of any use to me.”

A chuckle was startled from the sovereign, loud and boisterous and like nothing she’d ever heard from him before. She looked over just in time to find an unguarded, full smile on his face, brightening and softening his features to make him seem so much less forbidding than she’d ever considered him to be. Unable to help the small smile that his unbridled humor pulled from her, she looked away again before she did something stupid. Like _tell_ him how handsome he was with such a smile.

Because damn did it make him that much more attractive.

Instead she looked at the fish at her feet, “Is there any way I can help?”

“Help, hinder, and somewhere in between,” his tone was at once amused and chiding. “You know I can’t tell you Sarah.”

The bite of frustration began to nag at her. “Can _anyone_ tell me?”

“Of course not. If I am, in essence, cursed then the Labyrinth is cursed and all its creatures with us.”

Her heart sank, fallen to the pit of her stomach, “I’m on my own, aren’t I?”

When he didn’t answer, with a snarky or even ominous rejoinder, Sarah looked over at him. She found the Goblin King staring at her, a subtle concern coloring his features. Quickly he looked away, his usual unreadable, Holier-Than-Thou expression back on his face. A shiver of fear hummed though her when she realized… Jareth was frightened for her.

Suddenly breathless and quaking, she looked away, back down to the fishes. “Can you tell me where to start to look at least? Where a clue is?”

Jareth rose and circled the fountain, “During your first journey through my kingdom you traveled a path none other dared and received what you wanted. Perhaps traversing it again will give you what you need.”

“Solve the Labyrinth again?” she shrugged listlessly, “Well I guess there’s nothing else for me to do.”

“There is so much else you can do, pet,” he corrected softly, reaching down and picking up a bit one of his shattered crystals. “This would be… the _right_ way.”

She watched him play with the piece of orb, watched as his nimble fingers somehow inexplicably were still able to manipulate it smoothly. The liquid movement mesmerized her, just as it did years and years ago. So fascinated was she that she didn’t truly notice the fae slowly circle the fountain until he was only inches away from her. Just barely refraining from jumping six feet into the air out of surprise, Sarah glared up at him. Before she could reprimand him, Jareth wordlessly took her hand and gingerly placed the broken crystal in her hand. Rather disturbed over his unusual demeanor, she glanced between him and the orb.

“… Is there… is there _anything_ you can tell me? If I ask the right questions, I mean?”

A trace of his old, mocking smile returned, “And what are the ‘right-questions,’ Sarah-mine?”

Sighing lightly, Sarah looked down to the crystal piece, “Now we’re back to games and riddles.”

A dark sort of chuckle escaped him, “’Riddle of destiny, who can show/What thy short visit meant, or know/What thy errand here below? *1’”

“And poetry,” she added with a sardonic smile, “are you going to start quoting Shakespeare?”

“Would you like me to?”

“Are you any good- OW!”

The feel of the skin of her palm being sliced open had her flinching away, dropping the orb shard. She hissed and clutched her hand to her chest protectively, as if that would ward away the sudden pain. Immediately Jareth’s hand was around her wrist, gently but firmly pulling her arm away from her torso so he could see what had happened. His grip was a vice, preventing her from pulling away as he gently touched a digit near the deep cut. She hissed and glared up at him, certain he was doing this on purpose.

“I forget,” he said softly, his finger still painfully caressing the skin along the cut. “How fragile humans are.”

“Yes,” she said on a grimace, “Extremely fragile, now would you stop poking my open wound? I need to take care of it.”

“Wound?”

His tone was innocent enough, beguiling enough, that she couldn’t help but look down. To her surprise, and perhaps not, there was only a pool of blood there, no gash at all. As she watched he pulled her hand over the fountain and turned her wrist to let the blood fall into the water. The rainbow colored fish were in a frenzy as soon as they sensed her blood, each fighting to taste the warm liquid.

“So that’s what you mean,” Sarah said softly.

“In a way,” the Goblin King pulled a snow white handkerchief out of thin air and wiped away the rest of the blood on her hand. When her hand was again clean and he’d magicked away the cloth, Jareth bent gallantly over her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I apologize, Precious Sarah.”

“Its… its okay,” she said haltingly, unsure yet again how to react to him. Her uncertainty was quickly assuaged when he straightened, a cocky smirk on his face. As if he’d just conquered the world. Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“One day my Precious Thing,” he murmured, keeping that cocky smile as he began to slowly back up, “One day you will admit your lust for me.”

Her mouth dropped open at his blatant wording, and she could feel a harsh blush flourish on her cheeks. “What?! _No way_!”

King Jareth’s chuckle was resounding even as he began to fade from view, “Such a pity, Sarah, such a pity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,553  
> Date Written: 25th August - 25th October 2012
> 
> *1: A little quote from Charles Lamb, an English critic, poet, and essayist. I thought it fit.
> 
> A.N. ‘That makes too much sense to be of any use to me’ happens to be a phrase I use very frequently.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	9. Under the Underground

“What exactly do you think _you're_ doing, young man?”

The littler Jareth looked up with a devious and knowing smile from atop the large urn as he pushed away the heavy lid without care. Sarah stood not twenty feet away, hands on her hips as she stared him down, challenging him with what Toby called her “Mom Look.” She didn't know if she should be leveling such a look on him, with the boy being fae. . . and royalty at that. Besides which she didn't think he was doing anything bad, per say, just messing with an urn. But of course if she knew anything about Jareth. . . yeah he was doing something he shouldn't be.

She'd spent the last hour looking for the Goblin King in either of his forms after he disappeared from view, only to find the younger version investigating one of the few urns that were left unbroken, clearly not interested in their game of hide and seek anymore. At some point, without telling her, he switched to a game of tag.

“We're playing.” Jareth answered her question with a giggle, sitting on the edge of the container, his feet kicked over the side.

“Yes we _are_ playing,” Sarah said cajolingly, putting out her hand, “Now come down from there. You'll get hurt.”

The little child looked down into the depths of the urn, down to the catacombs she knew where below his feet. He looked back up with an overly-saccharine smile, “I wanna go down there.”

“No you don't. It's nasty down there, all dark and dusty.”

He looked down and back up again, “Yes I do.”

“ _Nooo_ ,” Sarah implored, “Let's go play a _different_ game.”

With another devious smile to her, Jareth jumped forward and, with a joyful cry, disappeared into the depths. For what had to be the thousandth time, Sarah went through every swear word she knew as she ran forward and and jumped up onto the stand to look down into the urn. The darkness of the sewers ate up the light shining into them, threatening to swallow her up with them. But. . . she had to go down. Not only was it where the kid had gone, but it was part of 'solving the Labyrinth' right? This is what she had done before, gone down into the depths, so she needed to do it again.

Growling under her breath, Sarah gracelessly climbed up the side of the urn, shrieking a little when she slipped on the rounded side for a moment. Before she could fall to the ground, however, she kicked her leg over the lip and pulled herself up that way, straddling the side. After finding the ladder, thank  _goodness_ there was one at all, she eased her way down, her heart beating faster at the dimming of light. The last time she was down here. . . well she really hoped The Cleaners only came around if they were summoned.

At the bottom of the ladder, the young woman looked around in some dread, knowing the tunnels down here were a maze all on their own. She had once spoken to Hoggle about them, curious about what was actually down there, why there were tunnels in the first place. The dwarf had, reluctantly, told her that they were the remnants of a previous ruler, one who had also taken wished away babies from their cribs. Instead of taking care of the children the Old Goblin King would toss them into the tunnels or oubliette's, using them for their intended purpose. To forget them. Sarah had always been too afraid to ask what  _Jareth_ did with the children.

She just hoped she didn't see any little bones while she was down here.

“Jareth!” Her voice echoed through out the tunnels, mocking her as they repeated her call over and over into oblivion. “Jareth this isn't funny! We need to go back up! It's dangerous down here!”

A childish giggle rang out, and Sarah whipped her head toward the source before the echoes disguised it. Instantly she ran forward, intending on finding the boy before they were in the tunnels too long.

The untouched look of the catacombs surprised her. The thing that had damaged everything topside didn't seem to have drifted down below. The walls were just as solid as ever, just as devoid of life and foreboding. She'd only had a bit of experience in this section thanks to Hoggle guiding her out of there fairly quickly, but. . . why wasn't it just as damaged as above?

“Saaaaraaah,” Jareth called again, his voice still a giggle. “You can't catch meeeee!”

She couldn't help the small smile as she walked along, hand against the wall to guide herself. Despite the annoying and selfish tendencies of the kid, he was absolutely adorable and she couldn't deny it. There was something about him, free of malice and manipulation, that she found endearing even down here in the most depressing of places.

She jogged down the catacomb tunnel, listening intently for any disturbances, any clue that Jareth was close. He was playing tag with her, so she was rather certain that he was either trying to get as far away from her as possible or keeping her in sight while hiding away. The adult him would do the latter, but somehow she thought the younger would try to get as far away as possible.

“Wander. . . no. . . further. . .”

Sarah tensed at the new, low voice, whirling around to see who spoke. Her eyes widened a fraction when she found the sharply carved face of a False Alarm. It's eyes were more languid than she remembered, more lifeless as it looked aimlessly at nothing. She was going backwards, she realized, she was going in the direction of the oubliette she'd fallen into during her first visit. Cautiously she approached the False Alarm which had spoken, recognizing it as the one who had all but begged to say his lines all those years ago.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Wander. . . no. . . further. . .”

His voice was slow, as if it was a massive effort just to say those three simple words. She suppressed a shiver and moved on, up the path instead of down it this time, understanding that the carved head was just speaking at nothing. And as she moved up the path, crossing the other False Alarms, she realized they were all the same. Lethargic, unseeing, speaking only those three words in a constant, sluggish mantra.

“Wander. . . no. . . further. . .”

“Wander. . . no. . . further. . .”

They were False Alarms, she reassured herself, they were _supposed_ to be warning the lost away from nothing. She shouldn't be listening to them, shouldn't be letting their chants get the better of her.

Shaking off her uncertainty, Sarah pressed on, needing to see if this was indeed the way to the place where things were left to be forgotten. It was familiar, her feet taking the path she thought she should have forgotten after so long. All too soon she found herself at an ominously open door.

Biting her lower lip she inched her way forward, peering around the portal into the dark, dark room. The oubliette.

Against her better judgment, Sarah paced forward into the little room, taking the time to shove a large stone into the doorway to make sure the Labyrinth didn't have the chance to close on her. The room was just as she remembered it, dark and depressing, perfect for leaving someone to be forgotten, but with one glaring difference. Strewn all around the floor, in little piles or tossed around without care, were hundreds upon hundreds of shattered crystal orbs. The biggest pile lay smack dab in the middle of the room, right under the trapdoor. Like all of them had been dropped from there.

Without much hesitation, she climbed the little mountain, carefully bracing herself against first the crystals and then the ceiling above her, reaching up and pressing against the little portal there. It gave instantly and she pushed it all the way open.

“Hello?” She called hopefully, “Are you. . . are the Helping Hands there?”

She was met with silence, only the whisper of wind meeting her as it blew down the shaft. Her heart dropped. “Damn.”

“Which way?”

Her head jerked up at the harsh whisper and she found herself staring at the handmade faces staring down at her. “Oh!”

“Which way? Which way? Up or down?”

She smiled happily, reaching up an arm, “Well, I'm already down. Can you bring me up? To the doors?”

The Helping Hands slowly disassembled their faces and reached down for her. For a moment, she was afraid they were just as affected as the False Alarms were and wouldn't be able to bring her up. They might _want_ to help her, they were accommodating things after all, but their _ability_ to do so might be hindered. But, when their firm grip encircled her arms and easily pulled her up into their guiding hands, her fears were banished. They may be slow, quiet creatures now, but they were as strong as ever.

And she could go  _up_ this time, to a certain path to the Castle. She wouldn't make the same mistakes this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,582  
> Date Written: 14th - 15th April 2015
> 
> A.N. You're catching up to FF.net. If you've already read this fic on FF, then you know that there was a long, long hiatus, due mostly to school, and the reason I've returned to writing is that my sister, my hero, recently and unexpectedly passed away. Writing has always helped me cope, so that's what I do now as I hate the world and everything in it.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	10. A Stones Throw

The problem with the Labyrinth, other than it was currently dying, was that it was never fair, not even to its own inhabitants. While they did have the advantage, being creatures of the Underground and generally joining the tricks of the world, they were not exempt from its devious dealings. The first time through she'd only gotten glimpses of their mild misfortunes; Ludo's disappearance to the Bog after escaping the guards, the door knockers who couldn't hear or speak because of their knocking rings. They were all small, idle things, things that could be overlooked because they were either easy to escape or the inhabitants were in on the scheming. Until this. This was just. . . _wrong_.

Sarah stared in horrified shock, barely breathing as she tried to understand what she'd been looking at for the past few minutes. She hadn't been looking forward to confronting the Four Guards again, knowing that, despite technically emerging from _behind_ the doors, she would have to solve their riddle again and risk falling into another trap. That's just the way the Labyrinth worked. Facing them she was, but she wasn't going to be solving any riddles any time soon.

Because they'd turned to stone.

The tired yet agonized look on their faces, as if their transformation had been slow, tore her apart. She may not have liked them, not with they way they'd laughed at her while she'd fallen into the abyss, but she definitely hadn't wanted this for them. This was vile, cruel. And infinitely sad. Biting back her tears, Sarah reached out a trembling hand and rested it against the cold stone of one head, silently apologizing for what she'd done to them, asking for forgiveness, and then moved to the other cold stone figure.

She would fix this. She  _had_ to fix this. No one else would be made to suffer.

Easing past the door which had once been the one to the 'right path to the castle,' Sarah was careful to step over the area where the trap door had been the first time around. She may have come up elsewhere, but that didn't mean a trap wasn't there anymore. Taking a deep breath, she stared ahead to the long, curved path laid out before her. It seemed just like when she'd first entered the maze so long ago. No paths to be seen.

“Don't go in there, Sarah.”

She jerked around at the insistent voice, finding the child Jareth standing in the doorway, leveling a frightened look on her.

“Why not?”

His gaze flicked between her and the path behind her, “It's a labyrinth.”

Sarah blinked, “We're _in_ the Labyrinth, Jareth.”

He shook his head earnestly, “Not yet. That's a _real_ one.  It's scary.”

A measure of relief flowed through her, relaxing the tension she didn't know had gathered. So it was just a childish fear. “It's just a path, Jareth. It'll take us straight to the castle. . . wouldn't that be a much more fun place to play hide and seek or tag in?”

The little boy didn't respond, his face still full of wary fear as he undulated from foot to foot. Feeling pity settle over her, Sarah decided to avert his attention elsewhere, “Jareth, what happen to the Four Guards?”

As she had hoped, he looked to the stone figures, yet it was only a glance. “They didn't move.”

His tone was idle, as if it was common sense, as if it explained everything. Sarah shook her head, “They moved all the time, sweetie, just like the Labyrinth. I remember. They weren't there one moment and then they were.” _And then there was a wall hemming me in._

“The _Labyrinth_ moved, not them. They're doors. Doors don't move.”

“How is that-”

“They didn't move,” he insisted impatiently, stamping his foot. “If you don't move, you get caught by nothing. That's the rules.”

“Okay, okay,” She said placatingly, stepping forward and around the stone figures, “I believe you. But what do you mean 'nothing'? Do you mean that the magic just. . . fades?”

The look he gave her clearly said 'duh.' Sarah bit back the need to scold him, after all he was _finally_ staying on topic and she really didn't want to threaten that. “So those who stay still, despite the Labyrinth moving, turn to stone?”

His sigh was long-suffering, “You really don't know _anything,_ do you?”

_Why that little_ – wait. . . she remembered this stage with Toby. This stage of a child enjoying the very thought of knowing something an adult didn't had very nearly been hell when she'd gone through it with her half-brother. During those highly annoying years, Toby's tender ages of five and six, Sarah had developed a bit of a theory in order to cope with what was going on. She'd figured that it was during these years that the child was finally learning that adults _didn't_ know everything and would openly delight in knowing something adults didn't because, hey, they were _adults_. With Toby, Sarah had discouraged most of that behavior, but in _this_ case. . .

She smiled sweetly and crouched down in front of the little fae, “No sweetie I don't, but I bet _you_ know a lot don't you?”

Instantly his little chest puffed out in pride, and Sarah knew she'd taken the right route. She bit back a giggle as he preened. “I know _everything_ about the Labyrinth. It's _mine_.”

“That's _so_ cool,” Sarah enthused, “ _All_ of it is yours? Even the Goblin City?”

He nodded eagerly, mismatched eyes wide in excitement, “The other Sidhe said I would be the best king when we found out the ugly one wasn't following the rules. So it's aaaaall mine now.”

“He didn't follow the rules?”

The boys face became serious, almost overly so as he leaned in and whispered dramatically, “He took the _wrong_ baby.”

“Ooooh.” _That didn't seem like such a bad crime considering they took babies all the time. Why did the_ wrong _one matter?_ “And the. . . Sidhe thought you _would_ follow the rules?”

A delighted and devious giggle escaped Jareth before he clapped his hands over his smiling mouth. His eyes sparkled as he pulled his hands slightly away from his mouth, “Nope. They're _my_ rules. I can break 'em.”

Sarah giggled with him, “Very cool,” she rested her chin on her fists and braced her elbows on her knees as she tried to keep him endeared to her, “So what kind of rules are they?”

“You don't need to worry about them. You're a princess.” The shy mien on his face was unexpected and oh, so adorable.

Her smile widened, “Awe that's sweet, but aren't the rules important? Won't the other Sidhe take away the Labyrinth if you don't follow them, just like the the old king?”

As if a switch had been flicked, Jareths bright, endearing smile dimmed and, though he remained a child, his expression aged before her eyes. He said nothing, merely began to slowly step back from her. The quick change in his demeanor startled her, and an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. She was getting somewhere, but from the look of it she wasn't going to like where that 'somewhere' was. She reached out, trying to take his hand, but he was too far away from her, “Jareth what's wrong?”

He shook his head, as he began to fade from view, “You don't have to worry, Sarah. You'll be okay.”

“No, wait,” She stood and tried to follow him, resisting the urge to reach out and grab him. It wouldn't do any good anyway. “Jareth, tell me what's wrong!”

But he'd already faded completely from view, his voice echoing into the air, “Don't worry, Sarah. Don't worry.”

She sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair as she scanned the emptiness around her. Don't worry? All she'd been doing since she got here was worry. She worried that her friends were going to be hurt, that maybe the might turn to stone like the Guards had. She worried about the Labyrinth itself, as much trouble as it gave her the first time around she knew it was an amazing place, she respected it, the splendor of it. She even, grudgingly, worried about Jareth. He was such a strong figure that it seemed terrifying that he should be sick. And if whatever made Jareth sick got a hold of _her_? That was a frightening thought.

And, honestly, a lot about herself too. If the Labyrinth died completely while she was down here, what would happen to _her_? Would she die? Would she be sent home somehow?

Shaking off her agitation, Sarah turned back to the open door and once again slid past the Four Guards, silently apologizing to them again for the fate she brought down on them, swearing to fix it if she could. She slowly started to walk forward, scanning the empty grey walls which melded into the stone floor of the same tone and the wide curve in front of her. She saw no other paths to take, neither saw nor felt any openings as she walked along, running her fingers against the wall. It seemed Jareth was right, it _was_ a true labyrinth. A single, roundabout path. All she had to do was walk and she would make it to the end, to the castle, no problems.

After only a few hundred steps, Sarah paused with a frown. She turned and scanned the grey path behind her. There was nothing there. Reassured she turned back around and started walking again, this time a little quicker.

It didn't take long for her to hear the noise again, subtle and right behind her. Quickly she whirled around, determined to see whatever was there. There was still nothing there.

Again she turned, her pace that much faster as a low rumble followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,664  
> Date Written: 16th - 21st April 2015
> 
> A.N. For the uninformed (like I had been at one point), a TRUE labyrinth is NOT a maze. It's a single path leading to a center-point. They're ancient in design and have pretty awesome mythologies. Wikipedia has a few good pictures.
> 
> Also, you're officially caught up with FFN.
> 
> Huge, HUGE shout out to my lovely, magnificent, and epic Velvet Sometimes for talking me through the Sidhe aspects. I know nothing of the fae, Norse Mythology and the Viking Era are my babies, so she is my amazing Yoda in this matter.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	11. Hall of Fears

She'd thought the sounds were from Ludo. The low, rumbling growls and the scratching against stone had immediately reminded her of the lumbering, furry creature. She'd smiled to herself and began running down the path, hoping to give her biggest, sweetest friend the biggest hug she could.

After a quick minute she realized that it wasn't Ludo. There was no way it was Ludo. The growling that radiated to her, from behind, in front of her, from the sides, and even above, sounded nothing like the friendly vocalizations of the rock whisperer. The sounds may be soft and often hard to locate, but they were distinctly. . . threatening. Very soon in her journey in the labyrinth she couldn't help but start running.

The labyrinth itself wasn't helping either. It seemed to be made of nothing. There was nothing below her, nothing above, to the sides, behind. . . nothing in front of her. All that existed was a uniform, grey brick, neither light nor dark, on and on, never ending. It was nothing.

Sarah didn't know how long she had been running, just that she'd started early. Forearm pressed to her chest as she panted painfully, she was all but hugging the wall as she went. She couldn't tell how far she'd gone, there was no deviation in the bricks, no clue, to tell her where in the labyrinth she was. All she had were the frequent u-turns and the curved paths that varied in their lengths. None of it told her how far she'd come or how far she had to go.

She was lost and yet she knew exactly where she was.

Despite the overwhelming urge to  _ keep running _ , Sarah had to stop. Her lungs weren't taking in enough oxygen anymore, the stitch which had formed in her side awhile ago – an hour? More? – was pinching so badly it felt like it was going to burst open, and her legs were starting to give out underneath her. She hadn't run so much in her life, not even when she'd had thirteen hours, less than, to get to her brother.

Sarah collapsed to her knees as soon as she got it into her mind that she couldn't go on, skidding on the ground feeling hard stone cut into her skin. As exhausted and lightheaded as she was, she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead she panted, wheezing with every labored breath as she pressed her forehead to the cool ground, swallowing past the iron she tasted in her throat.

And the growling behind her lowered to a chest rattling pitch.

Sarah shuttered, but didn't move. She  _ couldn't _ move, not with her body so weak, and rapidly getting weaker, from all the running. Instead she tuned out the noise as best as she could, near impossible as it was the only other sound around her, and all but dropped to lay on her side. Finding it best to focus on her breathing, taking purposefully slow and deep breaths, Sarah rolled onto her back and silently begged her lungs to catch up and supply more oxygen to her deficient body.

Every inch of her trembled with exhaustion, little uncontrollable spasms rocketing up and down her body. As she lay there her body slowly got heavier and heavier, until she was sure that if she even tried to move, which was unlikely at this point, she wouldn't be able to lift a finger. A cough racked her inflamed lungs, her eyes falling shut.

All at once she realized it was silent.

The bolt of adrenaline which shot through her gave her the strength to jerk upright, eyes wide and wild as she searched the hall. Why was it quiet now? Why  _ now _ ? The growling and scratching had being going on for hours, consistently and unendingly. Why  _ now _ ?

Sarah scurried back to press against the wall, eyes darting up and down the path. There was nothing, the same nothing that was there before, the same nothing that would be there when she looked again. It was just grey, bleeding into itself so it was nearly impossible to tell where the walls and floor met. An emptiness which seemed to consume the very space that made it.

Releasing a ragged breath, accepting that this was just another quirk of this path, she felt the adrenaline in her system slowly ebb away, weakening her body once again. Sarah dropped her forehead to her knees, resuming her deep breathing as she listened for. . . anything. Whatever had been growling couldn't have gone far, could it? She was never that lucky when it came to this place. Whatever Jareth had been thinking when he created this. . . this hell hole of a path couldn't have been sane.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she moved to lay down again, determined to get some sleep while it was quiet, while it felt like nothing was after her. She froze a moment when she saw a dark spot in the stone floor near her, a difference in the monotony.

Leaning forward, Sarah quickly identified the spot as a little pool of blood. Blood? What on Earth. . . Blinking a moment, she straightened out her legs, wincing when a sharp pain stabbed at her knee. A wry smile colored her expression as she stared at the wound, the little trickle of blood that dripped down to the ragged rip of her pajama pants. Well, it wasn't entirely unexpected that she'd hurt herself at some point, and at least the blood on the ground changed the unchanging labyrinth.

She looked back to the red marring the floor just in time to see the rest of the red liquid be consumed by the grey stone.

Terror shot through Sarah, and instantly she was on her feet, breathing quick and erratic. Just as fast as her heart was beating. “What... what the _hell_?!” her voice shook, but in the next moment her panic strengthened and amplified it, “ _What the hell is going on here_?”

She whirled on her feet and bolted down the hall, any of the fatigue she'd felt earlier completely gone, the pain in her side nothing to this new, frightening horror. Immediately as she started running she heard the growling kick up again, the sound nipping at her heels. Unable to help herself, she ran faster, instinct demanding that she get far, _far_ away from the thing that threatened her.

A particularly loud growl before her forced Sarah to a stand-still and a weak sob ripped from her lungs as she fought down her terror. Instead, incited by days of frustration and stress, anger bubbled its way to the surface, a defense against the fear roiling in her stomach, and hit its boiling point.

Face twisted in fury, Sarah yelled, the sound decidedly animalistic as she lashed out and punched the wall. She felt the skin of her knuckle break, but she barely paid it any mind as she twisted around to scream into the emptiness around her.

“ _What do you want?!_ ”

Despite the strength of it her voice didn't even echo, the hall consuming that too.

“ _Stop following me! Stop_ growling _at me! Show yourself damnit!_ ”

The growling lowered to almost a purr, mocking her, before it disappeared completely. Seconds later, as she stood waiting, knowing _something_ was going to happen, the growls bloomed right by her ear. Instinct had her off again, running blindly as tears began to sting her eyes.

“ _Jareth_!” She shrieked between gasps of breath. “ _Jareth, where are you?! Get me out of here!_ ”

But there was no sudden appearances, no erupting puff of glittery black smoke to announce the entrance of a certain Goblin King. She would have no savior here in this place. She was on her own.

At that thought, Sarah's legs gave out under her and she toppled to the ground. She grunted as her body met the hard, unforgiving stone, knocking the breath out of her with the solid fall. She rolled onto her back and eased to sit up with some effort, her lungs on fire as she dragged herself back to lean against the wall. Something tickled her cheek. Frustrated she reached up and wiped at whatever was there. Her fingers came away wet. Oh. . . she was crying.

Furiously she wiped at the streams of tears running down her cheeks, trying to slow down her breathing which was bordering on hyperventilating. _Breath in_ , she told herself, knowing the only way she would actually regulate her breathing is if she thought herself through it, _hold it a moment. . . release it slowly. . . take another breath._ She couldn't breakdown now, she couldn't afford it, she still had twelve days, but at the same time she _only had twelve days_.

By the time she was half way through calming herself, exhaustion slowly settling in her skin again, her mind going over what had just happened. The blood disappearing, the sounds. . . the way she whirled around and around. She looked back and forth, down each way of the hall as she tried to distinguish one direction from the other.

She didn't know which was the right way.

Her heart fell just as her vision blurred, yet it wasn't tears that obstructed her sight. Instead it all caught up with her; her sudden return to the Labyrinth, the slow but complete destruction of the place which she'd remembered fondly, the eventual death of all those who inhabited this place, and perhaps her own. And now. . . now she might be going through this path of terror _again_. She didn't know if she could handle it. She should have listened to Jareth. . . oh goodness she should have listened to him.

Sarah's vision tunneled as wave after wave of dizziness swept over her, her body finally unable to handle the mental and physical stress. She'd been running for hours, chased by something she couldn't see, threatening her without showing itself. She leaned to the side and heaved, what little was in her stomach coming up to splash on the ground beside her. Helpless to do anything else, the woman fell to her side, only able to shift just enough that she didn't fall into her vomit.

Her vision blacked completely and, as she slowly lost consciousness, the last thing she heard was the thundering growl in the air around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,742  
> Date Written: 21st - 30th April 2015
> 
> A.N. I was always curious about Sarah's missed opportunity, HOWEVER, it's not an original idea. I admit that a homogeneous place of nothing comes from my favorite novel, Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves (though I will NEVER be able to come close to the fear he inspires. I bow to him). If you ever get the chance, read it! It messes with the mind so brilliantly and can change your perception of the world.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	12. Riddle Me This

She woke up in fits.

Her first level of awareness broke on her like small wave, bringing the sensation of the cold, hard ground beneath her and the still, open air above her. She wasn't a stranger to waking up on the floor, the few sorority parties she'd gone to during college had seen to that introduction. She was content, still tired and hurting, and so she'd slipped back into slumber.

The second time she woke came with more cognizance, the knowledge that she hadn't fallen asleep in a place she knew, hadn't _voluntarily_ fallen asleep at all. This time she fought to wake completely and figure out where she was, why she was there, and how she could get out of it. But she very quickly lost the battle, the exhaustion still consuming her, and she succumbed to unconsciousness only seconds later.

When she was finally able to pull herself from oblivion, easing up off the floor with a pained grunt and blinking against the bland brightness that stung her eyes, Sarah suffered no illusions as to where she was. She was still in the labyrinth, that hollow hall of nothing and sounds that ate up whatever was left behind. Perhaps she should consider it a blessing that she didn't sink into the floors while she'd been out.

Blearily she wiped the sandy sleep from her eyes, leaning back against the wall as she waited for the last vestiges of slumber to fade away. Her hands dropped limply into her lap after a moment, too heavy and aching to keep raised for too long, and lethargically looked back and forth down the hall. Both ways looked the same, just like last night. Just like the entire trip through this hell hole.

Which meant she still had no idea which way she needed to go in order to get to the proper end of it.

Pursing her lips against the agitation and residual panic, Sarah dropped her head back against the wall and stared up at the blank, greyed sky. Really if worse came to worse and she found herself back at the beginning she would be at least out since she knew that door was open. . . and that there was a door. Really she had no idea what was at the end, other than the Four Guards telling her that it was a straight shot to the castle. Unless the Labyrinth as a whole was manipulating this little labyrinth and she was stuck in it forever because it was keeping her in the same spot. Like some bastardized version of an automatic walkway in reverse. That would just be. . . typical.

Sarah stood using the wall for support, noting her vomit from the previous night was gone – gross – and chose a direction at random. Better she start moving now that she had some energy than to wait until her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in  _forever_ , and her body realize she'd slept on the cold hard ground all night. She kept her hand on the wall for guidance, to let her know it was still there, that she was still going in the same direction.

The growling echoed out behind her not too long after she began walking, but she didn't even bother to look around. There wouldn't be anything there after all, and it would only waste her time and energy. The growling would just get louder and louder if she let it get to her, that's what it did. That's what this place always did.

Rounding a tight, about turn corner, Sarah was greeted with, shock of all shocks, more nothing and a louder growl. She tensed at the sound, freezing a moment as her body tried to trigger its flight or fight response. It took her a full three breaths for her to continue, to walk the short hall and turn the corner and. . .

Oh. . . look at that. A door.

It was a small, metal thing, ancient and worn down, but looking sturdy enough that she knew it would be a fight to open if it was locked. She wandered forward too spent for any outward reaction, automatically reaching out to open it only to find there was no door knob. There was no visible way to get through it. Sarah ran her hands over the door, seeking out an invisible way to get through. Behind her the growling faded away. She paid it no more mind.

When she found nothing on the door, she pushed. Then pushed harder. And harder still until she was eventually using her entire weight and slamming her shoulder against the barrier.

It quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to budge no matter what she tried. She could feel the door quiver under her assault, as if teasing her with the mere possibility of opening under force, that she was _so_ close. Of course, with no lock or handle it was magic that kept the door closed and no physical force could stand up to that. Heaving a heavy sigh, she leaned away from the metal and just stared at it for a moment, wondering what she needed to do.

As she stared she realized that something was being etched into its facade. Her heart fluttered in excitement and relief as words began forming.

' _Each morning I appear to lie at your feet,_

_All day I will follow no matter how fast you run,_

_Yet I nearly perish in the midday sun_.'

A wry, half-smile touched her lips, “This place certainly loves riddles,” she murmured, running her fingers over the newly formed words, “And old ones too. It's a shadow.”

Instantly came a loud click, rusty and heavy in sound, as the door swung inward. If not for complete exhaustion, Sarah knew she would have jumped for joy. That was easier than she expected.

That thought faded from her mind as she was greeted with yet another metal door. A tired and annoyed smile stretched her mouth as she stepped through the door to stand in the middle of the secondary room. She watched the second door, waiting for words to appear on this one too. She frowned when, after a good ten minutes of shifting from foot to foot, nothing happened. Was this door different? She moved forward and reached out.

As soon as her hand pressed against the door, something slammed loudly behind her.

Sarah whirled around to find the first door sealed shut and slowly fading away into the brick around it. “What?! _No!_ ”

Darting forward, she futilely scratched at the edges of the brick, trying to keep it from consuming the door, the only sure way sh e knew of getting out of this fear pit. If it disappeared then she would have no way to get out, to get to the relative safety of the other end of the path. She should have listened to Jareth, oh god, she should have listened to the little guy.

The crawling brick slowed to a stop, leaving only half of the metal door exposed in nearly a perfect circle. Sarah cursed and punched at the brick. It didn't matter at this point if it stopped. . . it wouldn't open with the brick there. Her only way out was to get through the second door.

Turning, she read the riddle which had appeared.

' _With me the adventurous find quests and treasures of every kind._

_Trolls, goblins, orcs, and more, await within my closed walls for_

_All those that wish to visit me. Your hands will hold the means_

_to my secrets, but your mind will be the one to decode them._ '

Slowly Sarah blinked at the cumbersome riddle, wondering who was responsible for writing them.

“Alright so. . . the imagination?” her guess was idle and tired. Almost immediately she shook her head. No it couldn't be that. All of those things, treasures, trolls, and all those other things were real in the Underground, so why would they give her a riddle about them not being real?

But really all of it just fit in so well with the 'closed walls' being the skull and hands being the means to secrets because. . . well that was a little bit more of a hard sell.

What _did_ hands have to do with anyway?

Well hands could do stuff. Just like. . . drawing? And the mind would decode what was drawn right? She looked back up to the door. “Paintings? Pictures?”

But nothing happened.

“That figures. Well what else can hands do with all of that?” She started pacing the room, tugging at the ends of her hair. Hands were very creative things, they could do so many different things; build, make signs, make music, write stor-

Her head jerked up. Adventures, closed walls, decoding. “Books! The answer is books!”

Just as she'd hoped, a loud thud resounded throughout the small room, the door easing open. Hesitantly she walked forward, pushing the barrier fully open, and saw yet another door. Sarah frowned worriedly, were there just neverending riddle doors for her to go through? Goodness she wouldn't make it through, she hated riddles! She strode forward, intent on getting this next room over and done with, the faster she figured the riddles out the faster she would get out of here. Hopefully.

Something bright and white in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Sarah automatically looked over.

There stood a very familiar white ballgown.

Shocked, her eyes wide and locked on the gown she'd been wearing in that poison-peach induced dream. . . at least, she'd thought it had been a dream. Would it really be here if it had been a dream? _Why_ was it here? Unless she was imagining things. Sarah reached out and hesitantly touched one of the voluminous sleeves, feeling the wisp thin silk beneath her fingertips, trailing to the gold embellishments. Idly she heard the door she'd just walked through close with a metallic thud and click, and a wistful smile spread across her mouth. Though it had been a long, long time ago she could still remember the way it felt when she wore it, the way it fit so perfectly, the luxurious silk against her skin. Despite all the fear of that one night, the uncertainty of her success, those few hours had been. . . wonderful. A dream come true. She'd been the bell of the ball, dressed in a beautiful, elaborate gown. . . dancing with a king. If not for the unrelenting, nagging feeling that something had been horribly wrong, that she'd been forgetting something important. . .

Those had been the dreams of a younger Sarah Williams, one who was still consumed with teenaged dreams, thinking she wanted those elaborate balls, over the top dresses, and dashing kings to sweep her off her feet. While she was older now, wiser to the ways of the world and what love _really_ should be, she was big enough to acknowledge some nostalgia for those ideals.

Sarah turned away from the dress, allowing one last, lingering caress to the silk, and approached the third door. She pressed her palm against the metal. Instantly words began to surface and she stepped back to read them.

' _What begins and has no end? What is the ending of all that begins_?'

She smiled at the vague and cyclical nature of the riddle, just like the Labyrinth itself. Just vague enough that she could spend hours just trying to figure out the tone of the riddle if she didn't know the answer. . . which, luckily, she did. It had been one of her birth mothers favorite riddles.

“Death,” her voice rang out, “Death has no end once it's begun, and it is the ending of all things.”

The Underground really had a sick sense of humor.

The door gave its expected, heavy thud and swung out. Much to her surprise Sarah found the world dark as she stepped out of the small room, not the brightening darkness of the morning, but one of encroaching night. . . she'd been in that hall for two days.

Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness, a difficult accomplishment after so many hours of looking at nothingness. And when she could finally see properly her eyes locked onto the disheveled form of the Goblin King, his eyes bloodshot, tired, and surprised as he gazed at her, as if she was a mythical being. Like he had been waiting for her and yet hadn't expected for her to escape. Like he would have waited there for her forever.

Sarah smiled tiredly, “You look like shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2,124  
> Date Written: 14th – 24th May 2015
> 
> A.N. This has gone from a sweet, quick story to something complex, not-so-sweet tale with a sequel planned. . . Which is pretty cool since I had no idea what I was doing with it before. Anyway, sorry it took so long, I've been sleeping off some sort of sickness and just ignoring the world in general. . . watching reruns of Snapped. Anyway, enjoy. Chapter 13 next, and I think you guys will like it.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


	13. Tales of Truths

“There are how many days left? Ten?”

Jareth looked over from the other side of the little table he'd conjured up, eyes glazed with a exhaustion she never would have expected from him. Around his fingers twirled his pendant, an idle move that had her mesmerized more than once in the past hour as they sat and ate together. She'd been shocked when he'd started eating with her, somehow she hadn't imagined that he did eat, or that he ate so. . . normally, without aire's. But instead of sitting ramrod straight with his pinkie extended the Goblin King of the Labyrinth was lounging back and picking at his food with gloved hands.

“Yes,” he confirmed blithely, “In two hours or so it'll be nine.”

A frown twisted her mouth, “So basically it would have been less time consuming to go the old way. . .”

“Precisely.” He executed a little flip of the pendant, and she watched it sail in midair before he lazily caught it. He did the move a few more times before her eye was drawn to the open door she'd come out of.

“What is that place anyway? I thought labyrinth's were supposed to be a 'spiritual journey' or something like that.”

“They are.” He confirmed with an expert twist of his wrist that sent the necklace higher than before, twirling in mid air, up then down onto his fingers again. “Is not fear a spiritual experience?”

She rolled her eyes at him and Jareth continued without needing to be prompted, “That labyrinth is a remnant of the previous king, he took his responsibilities quite more seriously than I. He did not like to give challengers even the remote chance of saving their babies. . . and he particularly enjoyed watching their failures end in death. You are one of the few who has actually managed to escape it.”

She didn't know whether she should feel proud or if it should frighten her. She settled on plucking up another pastry and taking a big bite out of it. She didn't know where Jareth got his foods, if he summoned them from some kitchen or if he made everything himself, but _damn_ everything was so delicious. “Hoggle told me some stuff about the old king,” she said around the danish, “so did the littler version of you.”

“How dignified,” Jareth purred as he watched her eat, an amused smirk on his face. He stopped twirling the pendant, only to wind the chain about his fingers. “Goblin King Valerian was well known for his cruelty, but more notably, for his stupidity. It may be several millennia since I took the throne, but he still serves as a warning for us all.”

“Right,” she licked the flakes of pastry off her fingers, something Jareth zeroed in on immediately, “because he took the 'wrong baby.' Whatever that means.”

“Hmm,” his tone was a low purr as he stared at her fingers, eyes dark and sharp as they watched her. Unsure of what to do, unsure of how she felt about his reaction, she dropped her hand to the cloth napkin in her lap. She bit the inside of her lower lip as he brought his gaze up to hers and continued, “Yes, he made a foolish decision and took a child he shouldn't have.”

“I didn't know there was a baby the a Changeling King _couldn't_ take. What was so special about this one?”

A sly smile slowly bloomed on his face, “It was the Summer King's child.”

She frowned, searching his expression, “Summer King? Who...” Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open, “He stole the _Sidhe Kings kid_? Was he _suicidal_?” She may not know much of the true machinations of the fae, but she at least knew _that_.

Jareth chuckled, the dark amusement clear in his eyes, “Overconfident of his power and place in the world is the likely reasoning. Valerian had control of the Undergrounds source of magic and it's probable he let it go to his head.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on him, recalling a previous conversation with a certain tiny prince. She tapped her fingers on the table. “Mini-you said that you wouldn't get in trouble for doing what the old king did.”

“Hmm,” he started twirling the pendant again, his face becoming veiled and unreadable, “how about that.”

“Oh don't start,” Sarah sighed, “that mysterious and cryptic behavior, I thought we were past this. I'm not fifteen anymore.”

His gaze darkened again as it flit down what he could see of her form, “I should say not, Sarah.”

She stared him down, fighting not to look away as he met her gaze without any reserve. He was an infuriating fae and she was  _not_ going to back down until he get her a straight answer! She didn't want to feel like she was pulling teeth every time she spoke to him. Fairly quickly she began to regret her choice, her decision to not look away. . . it was like challenging a temperamental tiger. . . with an overconfident attitude problem. . . and access to devious magics that she had no idea what he could do with.

She couldn't help it, glancing away with a heavy blush, “Seriously, Jareth, why can  _you_ break the rules?”

When she looked back at him, his smile was pure triumph, “I am a member of the Sidhe by name only, granted merely because my father was, before being overthrown, the Summer King.”

For the second time shock rolled through her, mouth dropping open, “What?!”

“Oh did I not tell you?” Jareth smirked, knowing quite clearly that he _hadn't_ told her. “Yes, Father ruled over the Court for a good two millennia. A long time for the Sidhe, quite impressive. He lost the majority of his support when he ignored his duties to find his child.”

She hadn't thought it possible, but her mouth fell open even more, “ _You're_ the baby that was stolen?!”

“Oh my, all these revelations,” he sipped nonchalantly at his wine as he – _clearly –_ enjoyed her stupefaction. He let her stew in her shock for a bit, waiting to see if her mind would catch up with her. It wasn't. “I am able to break the rules because, while I am Sidhe by birth, I was raised for many years by the former Goblin King, who was Unsidhe, the lawless Court. The Sidhe have no love for their kind, and yet, because I was their Kings son, they couldn't deny me.”

She stared at him a moment longer, her jaw snapping shut with an audible click. “So. . . you can break the rules, because you  _have_ no rules, or because they  _expect_ it from you?”

The smile that traced his mouth was decidedly predatory, and a helpless little shiver ran up her spine. “A little bit of both.”

Oh. . . wow. She watched him a moment, eyeing him as he reveled in her surprise. It made sense in a way but at the same time it didn't. The Labyrinth was, apparently, where Jareth spent his formative years, and so naturally he would want to return, and she could definitely see why the Court might not trust him. But. . . if Jareth had been raised not to follow any of the rules of the Sidhe, then why did he seem to  _have_ rules? He wouldn't have let her or Toby go during her first journey through the Labyrinth, he wouldn't have followed through with their little battle of wits at the end of it all.

“Enough about my sad tale, Sarah,” Jareth's voice cut into her thoughts and she blinked out of her trance, “Tell me, how _did_ you get out of the Hall?”

“Uh. . .” a shrug tilted her shoulders, “I walked through the Path-of-Creepy-Growling, answered some riddles, opened some doors. It was terrifying but, I dunno, pretty easy compared to the things _you_ put me through once I think about it.”

The look on his face told her something was off, he hadn't anticipated what she'd said. “What of the rooms? What happened there?”

Confused with his questioning, Sarah told him, in detail when she was prompted, what occurred in those little rooms; the nothingness of the walls, the growling, her disorientation, and even the presence of her dress. He watched her closely through her narrative, looking for something in her face that she couldn't fathom. Did she think she'd lie to him? Really she had no reason to, besides she really,  _really_ wanted to know what was going down in that place too. And if she cooperated and told him everything, he would probably,  _hopefully_ , tell her what that place was all about. Why, if not many other people had escaped that labyrinth, was she able to so easily?

When she finished, her voice trailing off to encourage  _him_ to speak now, Jareth sat back in his chair and stared at the open door before them. She waited, picking at the rest of her danish as she tried not to follow his gaze.

“You're a very lucky woman, Sarah.” He said after a length of time, “You didn't experience _half_ of what you should have experienced.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, while your journey through the actual Hall sounds typical, your ordeal in the rooms does not.” He looked over, completely serious, “The riddles are simple enough because that's not all that should have happened. Fear is supposed to distract the challenger. That first room is meant to close in on a challenger, the stone eating away the space until the occupant is crushed. The second room is meant to pull the occupant into a dream, making them forget there was ever anything else.”

Sarah looked askance at him, “That sounds familiar.”

“Where do you think I learned it from?”

She couldn't help the grimace, not sure if she liked the thought of Jareth being so influenced by something so horrible. “Okay, so. . . why is it so different now? The magic is simple enough, right? What's changed?”

“That is quite the question. . .”

Her gaze jerked over as she opened her mouth to scold him. Didn't she  _just_ tell him to stop being cryptic? But the pointed look he gave her stopped her short. “Ah. . . curse.”

“Perhaps.”

They each fell silent, Sarah lost in her thoughts as she tried to process all she'd heard from him. She hadn't expected him to be the sharing type, especially not with such personal information. Of course, it was rather dramatic personal information and so he was obviously trying to shock her. Endeavor succeeded. But it was still weird for her. During her first journey through the Labyrinth he'd only ever inquired about her impressions, examined her demeanor, only spoke of her dreams. . .

Her heart dropped to her stomach as those thoughts coalesced into one startling revelation. She hadn't realized this before but. . . he really had done  _everything_ for her, hadn't he? He'd made every aspect of her first journey centered on the selfish, self-involved brat of a girl who thought of no one but herself, who wanted an adventure all about her. She wanted a purpose? He gave that to her by stealing her half-brother. She needed an enemy? He gladly took that role.

He was still doing it too, offering up bits of himself and his history and asking nothing in return but pieces of information that would only help her in the end. All because. . . did he really? Had the book gotten it right?

A clothed finger tapped against her forehead and Sarah looked up to find Jareth smiling down at her and offering his hand.

“Come,” his voice was soft and beguiling, “such deep thoughts aren't becoming for such a late hour. It's time for you to rest.”

Automatically she reached out and took his hand, letting him pull her up. He dropped her hand almost immediately and gestured to a small bed which had come from nowhere. A bed suitable for only one. She took a step towards it, thankful to see a place to sleep comfortably even if it was out in the open, but stopped, biting her lower lip. It was such a small thing in comparison to all the things he'd already done for her, was _still_ doing for her, it was selfish and rude of her to even _think_ of it. . . but she had to know.

“Jareth. . .” her voice was hesitant, and she could tell by the way he tensed that he felt her indecision and the weight of what she was going to ask, “. . . in the Hall. . . I called for you. I wanted your help to get out. . . but you didn't. . .”

The tension in the Goblin King eased out of him in an instant, leaving him with a soft, sad smile as he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Forgive me, Sarah-mine. I heard you, and wanted to go to your rescue but it's impossible for me to enter that place.”

She blinked, “What you? But it's _your_ Labyrinth.”

He hummed noncommittally, running his gloved fingers down the side of her throat as he smiled down at her, “I had a habit, one Valerian didn't like, of going into the Hall to rescue challengers. To this day I cannot go in there.”

The fear faded from her, a fear she didn't know had been as acute as it was, and she nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay?” The word was a murmured breath against her lips as he slowly leaned ever closer.

A new emotion, a different sort of sweet anxiousness, bloomed in her stomach. Sarah couldn't help but lean away from him, “W-wait. Doesn't a fairies kiss make humans a thrall?”

That slow, predatory smile slid into place again, his gloved thumbs lightly caressing behind her ears as he held her, “Did your little book tell you that?”

His lips were soft and warm as they touched her in a chaste kiss, an exploratory, barely-there brushing of his skin against her own. He was hesitant, his hand only there to touch, not hold her there, as if he were waiting for her to bolt away from him. But Sarah was lost, an electric tingle floating over her skin to the very tips of her toes, concentrating on where their skin touched, her mind blank but for the sensation of his mouth against hers.

But just as soon as he kissed her, Jareth moved away, stepping back until he was no longer hovering over her, forcing her to acknowledge the intimacy of their closeness. Immediately she felt his absence, cool air replacing the space he'd just filled, and she shivered, unwilling to look up at him with the blush she could feel staining her cheeks.

Sarah felt his hand pressed against the small of her back, pushing her gently towards the bed. Without any further prodding – when did she get so tired? – Sarah slipped beneath the covers and rested her tired head on the pillow. Her eyes quickly drifted shut. “G-night, Jareth.”

She was nearly asleep, mind cloudy and drifting, and so she couldn't be positive of what she heard as fingers caressed her forehead, moving strands of her hair out of the way of her face.

“Pleasant dreams, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2,607  
> Date Written: 26th May – 2nd June 2015
> 
> A.N. Just an explanation of the little laby, some important shit went down in there and I didn't want to just skate over it. The kiss was fairly hard to get in there too since their relationship is only starting to bud, but I didn't want to disappoint on the 13th chapter.
> 
> Please Regard Me Kindly,  
> I Agree


End file.
